That's Not Right
by Ares the Gamemaker
Summary: SYOT *Closed* President Snow changed the Third Quarter Quell to stop rebellion from destroying Panem. But now only one victor escaped from the Arena and it wasn't Katniss. The Third Quarter Quell is here with a new twist and this years tributes seem a little too eager to see some blood. These are the games where loosing costs your life, and victory your humanity.
1. The end of the 74th Hunger Games

**Authors Note: the beginning of this chapter is vague on purpose, but by the end you will understand. This is a prologue and has almost nothing to do with the actual story. Enjoy. I will update soon and get the actual storyline up after another few updates.**

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_"Victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror, victory however long and hard the road may be; for without vicory there is no survival." _

_― Winston Churchill_

A branch cracks behind me and I turn hesitantly, anything could be hiding in these woods. I want to let out a yell of frustration, where is she? I lift my sword, in a more suitable position, I probably just startled a wolf or a rabbit, nothing big.

I continue on my trek, searching for her she can't hide forever. There's only three of us left the Gamemakers will force us together. I'm growing frustrated quickly when my gaze doesn't reveal the girl, or the boy.

I breath deeply, keep calm, I tell myself. I force myself to stay calm, my father always told me this was my biggest flaw, I get angry. Fast.

Another crack in the bushes sounds behind me. That's it, my anger seems to grab my muscles, forcing me to charge the thing in the bushes. The same thing happened after she destroyed my group, my muscles seemed to come alive and I killed the boy with a flick of my wrists.

I bring my sword down at the bush, but there's nothing there. I turn my eyes to the trees and my stomach falls.

The creature is covered in brown fur and it has surprisingly bright blue eyes. Around its neck is a strand of rope with a shell engraved with the number 4. Using the instincts of the past Victors I slash my sword at the mutts tall neck. Using surprisingly dexterous limbs, it knocks the sword from my hand.

The mutt is standing on its hind legs and it has many companions standing silently behind it.

The mutts have many different forms and they look very familiar. This is all I get to see before my anger turns to utter horror and my legs carry me away from the pack of human wolves.

My legs carry me faster than I've ever ran and for the first time in my life, I feel weak and helpless. So this is what they feel, the kids I slay, this is the fear they experience.

A massive force slams against my back and its only my armor that stops my spine from breaking. I see the earth fly up at me and I feel myself tumble and roll across the hard packed ground.

I can't fight them, I need to escape, get out of their reach. I gain my feet, my body full of the energy utter panic gives. I grab a tree branch and my heart falls. This won't work, I can't climb, she made a fool of me because I tried. Running, I'm good at that.

I start my reckless flight again and I hear the wolves jumping after me. It's not like the running of a person, or the gait of a wolf something in between, something even more frightening. The thumping of a dozen heavy bodies follow me.

I run harder.

The trees fly by me, I'm following a path of some sort but I'm not paying much attention to it. Get away, get away, faster, run faster. I can feel exertion flooding my veins as I run for the next five minutes.

All my training seems worthless unless I can run faster. Five more minutes pass and the mutations still don't give up their pursuit. My mind begins to discourage me; I can't make it! There gonna catch me. One more minute, I tell myself and I push with everything I have.

My minute is up and I see a glint of sunlight reflecting off of a golden horn. I can't give up now, my pursuers are distant but if I slow my pace at all they will catch me.

At the base of the Cornucopia dipping something into the lake the last two remaining tributes look up at me.

The girl sees me first and nocks an arrow. I flinch slightly as she releases it but I don't slow in the slightest. I run straight into the arrow and feel it bounce off my chest.

The boy yells something but I don't hear it, my ears are full of the sound if pounding blood. I run right past her, towards the last thing that could save me. She looks confused as I fly by her. I reach the tail and climb, climb as fast as I was running. I make it to the top in no time, ignoring the heat coming from the gold. I see the girl following from the corner of my eyes.

The boy is limping and she is touching the tail before she hears him. The boy stumbles and her compassion wins out, she runs to him and grabs his hand pulling him up.

I fall to my knees and then roll over on my side. I vomit over the edge of the giant golden horn. My head is spinning and laying twenty feet above the ground is making it worse.

I feel exposed with my back facing the sun so I roll over again, onto my back. Get up, you need to kill them before they kill you. I see the girl shooting arrows into the pack of mutts, for every one that falls more come to take their place.

She must know its useless cause she stops shooting them.

"It's her!" The girl screams and I hear razor claws scraping down the side of the Cornucopia. The boy shakes her shoulder and says something.

"Who is it, Katniss?" He says.

"It's them. It's all of them. The others. Rue and Foxface and . . . all of the other tributes," she says.

"What did they do to them? You don't think . . . those could be their real eyes?"

I take in what she's saying but my career mind is telling me to kill her, her and the boy. I look at the crowd of mutts and find Thresh. A mutt grabs the boy by the leg and he lets out a shrill cry of pain.

"Kill it, Peeta! Kill it!" Katniss screams as the mutt starts to rip apart his leg.

I'm still to exhausted to stand, but I'm slowing my breathing. Soon I'll be able to kill them, but first I must recover otherwise I'll be overpowered before I can hurl them over the edge.

I can see her, arming her bow so she can shoot me. Thankfully Thresh jumps at her and her arrow gets him in the throat, dropping him to the ground.

Now is my chance, I jump to my feet and grab Peeta by the arm yanking him from her grip. Blood from his leg splatters against her face.

She has two arrows left in her quiver and I feel a grin spreading across my face, I have her trapped.

She pulls an arrow and nocks it, the point towards my forehead.

"Shoot me and he goes down too," I say after a quick laugh. I can see her processing what I've just said, and I can see the fear in her eyes. She knows I've won, there's no getting out of this.

Peeta is struggling in my grasp and the mutts have gone silent, not even a grunt or pant of breath. I can feel the life being squeezed out of this boys body, once he dies I'll pummel her with his lifeless body and then I will win. I cannot wipe the smile from my face.

The boys hand reaches up to mine and I pull harder on his neck, he taps my hand painting an X.

It takes me a second to realize what it means, but in that second an arrow pierces my hand and I let go of the boy I've been strangling. _You will live_, I tell myself. Peeta smashes his back into me and I begin to fall.

I feel the weight leave my body and I reach out to grab his arm, I miss. I see the boy recede over the lip of the horn with horror in his eyes. I fall to the ground twenty feet below with a heavy smash, the wind leaving my lungs with a woosh. Then the teeth set into my skin.

There are eighteen of the monsters, I know this cause I keep smashing their faces in, and each one has a characteristic scream. A lump is in my jacket and I fish out the knife I stored there. I strike the mutts and they howl out in pain. My screams of pain intermingle with those of the mutts.

On a different occasion, this would have been an enjoyable occasion, to fight a bunch of monsters to bring my district pride, but I'm weak. They can smell it on me and this makes them frenzy even more.

I need to get back to the horn, I can't fight these beasts on the ground like this. I strike a beast down and it lets out a scream. I'm struck to the ground, the world spinning around me.

I shuffle to my knees when another clawed hand strikes me to the ground again. You will live, my dad yells at me. He told me I would win when we parted back at home, and I can hear his voice cheering me on.

I lift my knife and a warped Clove lifts a paw to try to kill me.

"I'm sorry Clove," I mutter and then I drive my knife into her brain. Sixteen left. There is no way I can keep doing this. I move out of the mouth of the Cornucopia and around the side.

My knife clangs against the side of the horn as another mutt goes down. Fifteen. The sun is setting and its red glare blinds me for an instant. In that instant a mutt pulls me to the ground by my leg.

There is blood everywhere, both mine and the blood of the mutts. An hour passes with me trying to get to the tail and the mutts trying to kill me, but in the end I am dragged back to the ground and pulled over the dirt by many jaws grabbing my legs, trying to rip them off.

I take down six more in this hour leaving me with nine to go, but I failed, I was overpowered. I've lost so much blood that I'm surprised that I haven't died of blood loss yet.

I moan in pain as I let myself become captured and as they drag my back into the Cornucopia. The anthem booms and I'm as good as dead, sometimes it just isn't worth living if this is what you have to fight to win.

The moon shines dimly into the Cornucopia and I can see the stars. A mutt bites my leg, its teeth jarring off my armor. This is tough stuff, I've felt everything but only as a force, never as an injury.

The night comes and a chilling breeze wafts through the open entrance of the horn.

"Just let me die," I moan. The mutts have calmed down a bit, but they are still gnawing at me. I let out a long continuous moan for the next hour or so. My consciousness slowly fades. Could this be it? Could I finally escape this torture?

My eyes flutter open, stoping me from dying. I use my knife and slay the mutt chewing on my arm. Eight. This starts the rest of them up again and I am attacked, its like I've been set on fire and then dipped in lava.

I take another down before they subdue me. Again I'm on the ground bleeding from innumerable wounds.

I scream, both out of pain and furry. I was so close, but I let I slip through my grasp. The dead mutts give off a rotten stench and I can't help but think that I'm part of it.

Again a pair of teeth dig into my arms and I groan. Enough, this _must_ end. I stab my knife into the mutts chest and push it off of me. The mutts have gotten drowsy and aren't expecting an attack so close to sunrise.

I'm halfway around the Cornucopia before the first mutt catches me. In a desperate act I kick it viciously and slice its wrist off, it lets out a scream of pain and drop back to its pack of six. I reach the horn and begin to climb.

The metal is frosty and covered in blood, my blood.

The pack howls as I escape their reach, my exposed flesh is burning, despite the chilly breeze. It was so warm inside the Horn, due to the close proximity of the many dead bodies, but up here its like the arena has changed into a tundra.

I climb the horn and my body aches, I try to ignore it as I reach the pair from twelve on to of the Cornucopia. It takes all my power to walk to them. My bloodstained knife and body must give me a ghastly appearance. If it didn't hurt so bad I might enjoy this.

"What is it?" Peeta asks Katniss. They must be thinking that I'm a new mutt, come to finish them off while 'Cato' dies. The boy has a tourniquet with an arrow in it and the girls quiver is empty. Perfect, I will strike.

The girl is stuck in his jacket, presumably to try and stay warm. I raise my knife and walk jerkily towards the trapped pair. Peeta holds a knife of his own and slashes out at me as I descend upon them.

I've endured so much pain that when his knife cuts my hand I don't even feel it. My knife cuts his arm and I feel the bone stoping my blade from severing the limb. I growl, why not keep up the image of a mutt, it will scare them even more.

Peeta screams and I let out a hollow laugh. I must look like the devil himself came out of the ground to kill them. I slash at the girl but only manage to severe the jacket bonding them together.

She rolls out of the way of my second strike. Peeta is dead, not yet, but there is no way that he will survive this ordeal. The first rays of sunlight shine through the forest and I can see a look of recognition on her face, she knows its me.

"You should have died," she spits at me.

"I agree, but I didn't and now you will," I spit back, the spittle made of more blood than spit. I slash down at her. She blocks the stroke with her bow, my weakened muscles scream in protest to this new movement. I retreat as she lashes out with the bow. A thump on my back alerts me to Peeta's presence behind me.

I kick him in the stomach, bending my leg backward to complete it. He keels over and I grab the knife by the blade, ignoring the new cut it makes. I am completely destroyed, but still living, so I must destroy the living, I have become another mutt for the Capitol to play with.

I have two knives now and I swing them one at a time, trying to hit something vital. Peeta moans and Katniss becomes distracted by the noise. I lash out, my muscles slow from being targeted all night. She stops the hit and my knife almost splits her silver bow.

I strike again and she backs up. I walk as fast as I can and keep slashing out, moving her towards the edge. She must know what I'm doing and she lands a solid blow to my head with her bow.

I feel invincible. Nothing can hurt me, I'm past being hurt, and so far I cannot die, I was eaten by mutts and still, here I am. Her foot slips and she reflexively reaches out to stabilize herself. She finds my hand. I crush it in my grip, trying to let her know that I caused her death. I yank it up and she kick me sharply.

I grab her arm and pull her up to my eyes, I look into them, they are full of fear. I purposefully get blood on her face from mine.

"I win," I tell her softly. And then she falls from the Cornucopia and hits the ground. I watch silently as the mutts attack her. She screams, but she doesn't have any body armor to protect her. Soon the cannon fires.

"Katniss!" Peeta yells.

"Your next, lover boy," I tell him. I stalk over to him and he backs away wearily. The mutts are barking, wanting another victim.

"You won't win, Cato," he tells me from the ground.

"I already have, and there is no way for you to stop it,"

"No, you will kill me, but you will suffer back at home,"

"My District will benefit from this Victory, you know nothing about the rewards it will bring,"

"You will be haunted by nightmares," he tells me, his face is pale and his voice has risen.

"Nightmares are for children, I am no child, I am a Victor,"

"I win, Cato, you haven't killed me, and now I have won this battle," he says he closes his eyes. Before my knife can stab his heart, the final cannon fires.

"I have beat you, lover boy, I have won and you have died," I kick the corpse off of the Cornucopia to the ground and the remaining mutts run to the forest.

I look to the sky and see the hovercraft, finally come to take me out of the arena.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I am pleased to present the Victor of the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games, Cato Cide, I give you - the Tribute from District Two"

The ladder descends and I grab onto it, an electric current holding me in place as I travel upward, back to the Capitol.


	2. The quell

_"He told me that I have a soul, how does he know,"_

- Jean Valjean, Les Misérables

I let out a sigh of relief as Cato throws Katniss of the Cornucopia. I could see the rebellion in her eyes from the moment she volunteered. I usually ignore the volunteers, I mark them as desperate kids trying to be noble. No, Katniss was different.

I lean back in my chair and close my eyes. My tongue touches the sores in my mouth from all the poison I've consumed. The fumes from my white rose, in my suit pocket, rise up my nostrils. The airborne perfume tickles my nose and I sneeze.

"Aww such a pity," I say looking at the crumpled rose, I lightly smooth out the fragile white petals. The boy, Peeta I think it is, is talking to Cato, I'm not sure what its about but it seems to make Cato hesitate.

"Oh, just kill him already," I mutter under my breath. Cato hesitates to long and Peeta dies before Cato can kill him. "Shame," I say. "You should have had the chance to kill him," I continue, talking to myself.

I watch the Victor as he grabs the latter to be pulled up into the hovercraft. I turn off my T.V. Another year has gone, another excellent Hunger Games.

I pull a purple and gold cord and I hear a distant bell sound. Moments later an Avox opens my door.

"I need you to bring me Head Gamemaker Seneca Crane, quickly. That is all," my servant clad in a white uniform nods and quickly runs out the door. I lean back again closing my eyes and inhaling the sweet perfume, not too deeply though.

There is a knock at my door and Seneca opens my door, with my Avox behind him.

"Leave us," I tell him sharply, he disappears down a hall.

"You asked for me?" Seneca asks uncertainly. The last time I met with him I threatened his life if he didn't make things right.

"Yes, I would like to congratulate you, for your survival," he shifts uncomfortably under my hard gaze.

"Um, thank you, sir," he says after a minute.

"No, I should be thanking you, you stopped a rebellion, and prevented me from having to kill you," he looks down. "I do have one question though, why did you spare her life, after I told you specifically not too?" I ask pulling my white rose out of my suit pocket and stroking the smooth petals.

"I don't quite understand your question," he replies.

I set the rose on the table separating us and look him fully in the eyes. "Why did you let her live?"

"We've already addressed this subject, I believe," he says.

"Yes, we have, but I want you to have a chance to . . . rethink what you want to tell me," I turn away from him, and pick my rose back up, stroking its white petals. He doesn't offer up a response.

"What was that I told a few weeks ago, about hope?" I ask him. He stays silent.

"Seneca, I do not like to be ignored," I tell him sternly.

"That a little hope was effective and lots dangerous," he says.

"I also told you about why we have a victor, you remember?"

"Yes,"

"And why do we have a Victor, Seneca?"

"To give a little hope, but not too much,"

"Right, now see this rose," I hold the rose up for him to see.

"Um, yes sir," he says, unsure of what it means.

"I would rather not have to kill you, but sometimes . . ." I trail off as I place a crystal vase on the table and I fill it with a murky liquid. "I will give you a chance to fix your mistake, settle the districts down while the spark is still small, you have until this rose dies, and if you fail me your life will follow. Get the picture?"

"Um, yes sir," he says uncomfortably.

"Get out,"

"Sorry," he says as if he didn't hear me.

"Get out of my house, and clean up this mess," I raise my voice and he scampers out of the room. I'm in a grumpy mood now, I flip on the TV to some live cameras of the riot in Districts 11 and 8.

"Seneca, don't fail me," I mutter

* * *

Five Months Later

* * *

Cato doesn't look any better now than when he did when he got eaten by mutations, aside from spilling blood everywhere. Cato's face is covered in metal to keep it from falling apart, as are his hands and legs.

I look down at my magnificent white rose, its is much easier on the eyes than Cato. Then I look at Seneca's on the table. His rose is almost completely black, the wilted petals are drooping downwards and the brittle stalk is just barely holding the rose up.

"Your running out of time, Seneca," I say to myself. The roses perfume is magnified, its that time of year again, when someone else wants to take over Panem. It's a very simple agenda I get to keep while they try to come to power: I slip some poison into the dinner wine, then we drink the wine, then he dies and I live, then I drink the antidote. Of course the poison hurts me and causes bleeding sores to sprout all around inside my mouth, but I mask that smell with this scented rose of mine.

I look back up to the television screen, Cato is mounting the train to begin the Victory tour. I missed Caesar Flickerman's announcement, but I'm the president I don't have to follow all the rules of my citizens.

I change the channel, other TV's can't do that durning a required program, only mine. I find the live footage of the Districts. In District 8 it seems to be moving normally, I flip to 11 and the riots have seemed to calmed down a great deal, but there is still the occasional act of some group attacking a peacekeeper, and then the executions of the people that acted out of hand.

I make a quick sweep to the rest of the Districts and notice nothing out of the ordinary, District 12 is glum, they always are after the games and before the Victory Tour.

I change back to the required message and watch Caesar talk about the historical background of the Victory Tour. This is all it is for tonight, then on the next twelve days we watch Cato talk to the separate districts, and then the most important part, he comes to the Capitol. Only the most elite get a chance to come to the party we throw for him.

Over the next few days I watch the rose that acts as Seneca's life wilt and fall apart just a few more days, or at best a week, until it turns to dust. Cato talks to the districts and they cheer and holler his name, either out of admiration or out of hatred.

In District twelve I spot a little girl, no older than thirteen cry into her mothers lap as she strokes her blond hair. Odd for a girl from twelve that lives in the Seam, I can tell cause I've spent enough time around them, to have blond hair. I dismiss this, but there is something familiar about this girl, the look of defiance in her blue eyes, she has more hatred for the new victor than any I've seen.

Finally Cato reaches the Capitol and its about time for another meeting with Seneca. The night of the party for Cato's victory arrives and I get in one of my nicer suits and walk down many flights of stairs to my ball room and look out at the stirring crowd that arrived early.

I find Cato with his prep team. The party doesn't officially begin for ten minutes but the majority is here, serving themselves food from the endless tables of food.

I spot Seneca at the blood-red wine fall and walk to him.

"Good evening Seneca," I say after grabbing a glass and holding it under a fall of wine.

"Good evening President," he replies, filling his own glass. I sip my wine and look over my glass and into his eyes. "Is there something you want? Sir," he asks me.

"Yes, and Seneca, loose that tone, it might prevent me from sparing your life,"

"I'm sorry sir," he says. He's like a child, I can bully him into doing whatever I want him to do, but he's only weak around me, he's strong everywhere else. It's only because I'm the president.

"You have managed to do something that I didn't think possible, you have calmed them," I say calmly. "You have preserved your life for another year, just make sure they don't get riled again," I tell him sternly.

"Yes, sir, it won't happen again," Seneca replies, worry blown off by my announcement.

"Yes, it had better not, or else Plutarch might get your position next year,"

"Yes sir," he repeats.

"By the way, this is what your life looked like," I pull out the black rose from a black handkerchief and hold it by the top of the stem, right under the flower. "This is what was about to come to you if you would have failed," I squeeze the top of the rose with a white gloved hand at hold out the black particles for him to see. "Fire destroys, but a spark brings light, understand?" I don't think I could be any clearer. "It's your job to keep the candle burning safely, don't let it get out of hand,"

I blow the black rose particles off my hand and they float to the ground like ash from a fire. "Enjoy this Seneca, you can't fail now, unless of course the nation burns. Relax, drink some wine have some fun, and don't fail me," I finish my glass of wine. "If you don't mind, I think I'm gonna go get my some of that raspberry and strawberry cake," I walk off, leaving Seneca alone at the fountain of wine.

"Nicely done, President," a voice says behind me while I'm slicing some cake.

"The perfect amount of intimidation," Plutarch continues.

"Why, yes thank you," I reply kindly. "But Plutarch, you aren't here to congratulate me, frankly I don't know why your so happy, you just got gypped out of your job, but yet you are still here,"

"Why else would I be here other than to congratulate you? Oh and to get some of this delectable papaya and mango pie have you tried it yet?" He asks me a little too innocently.

"Plutarch," I say sternly.

"Yes president?"

"Your avoiding my question,"

"Am I?" He asks

"Yes, yes you are,"

"What was it again, why am I so happy?"

"Yes, why are you so happy, even when I just lost you your job," I ask him, a bit of his enthusiasm bleeding into me.

"Well we had a great Hunger Games, and poor Seneca didn't loose his job, or his life," I raise an eyebrow. "And the real reason," he continues as I shrug off his excuses. "You are the president and I would rather not fight you,"

"That's the answer I was looking for Plutarch,"

"Mr. President, there is another thing I need to tell you," he says, lowering his voice.

"Yes, what is it?" I ask.

"The arena has been constructed just like you asked me too," he replies.

"Perfect, is everything how I want it?"

"Yes sir, everything,"

"Great, now, don't hamper this time with work, this is when we get to have fun and relax. Go talk to Cato or someone else, but have fun," I tell him this and he runs of. The only problem with this is I never get to relax.

I find a vacant table and begin to eat my cake. The frosting is divine and the fruit makes it unreal, of course everything tastes this way in the Capitol. My table soon becomes crowded with various Capitol Citizens as they try to get a picture with the president.

"Hello President snow," a woman with purple peacock feathers says to me.

"Hello..." I leave it hanging, waiting for her to tell me her name.

"Cecilia Flickerman," she tells me with a smile.

"And where would Caesar be?" I ask.

"Oh, he's emptying his stomach for more," she tells me, with a faint blush and a look of disappointment.

"Well than, when he gets back, could you tell him to come see me for a minute or two, I would like to talk with him about . . . certain things,"

"Oh, of course," she says, her face going pale underneath her layers of mascara.

"It's nothing too serious, but please tell him that I will be in my office," I pick up my plate of half eaten cake and throw away the remainder of it. I didn't eat much, I never do. Using poison all my years in office have taught me to never trust food, unless you prepare it yourself.

I make myself a small mean, even when I do eat my own food it's in small portions, its nothing near as good as the food downstairs but it will work. A knock comes at my door.

"Come in," I say loudly. Caesar walks in, his hair is a deep lavender. "Lavender Caesar, for this year. Good touch, I like it," I say this mainly to rest his nerves, he looks nervous.

"You wanted to see me," he says. Why does everyone say that when I tell them I want to talk to them.

"Caesar you can relax, I'm not going to have you killed,"

"Why thank you I'm so glad that I didn't come to this meeting to be murdered," he says sarcastically. "So tell me, why did you invite me to this meeting," he says in his best interviewers voice.

"I just wanted to make sure you were ready for this batch of Quell Tributes," I say.

"Mr. President, the games aren't coming for another four months," he informs me.

"Yes, I know. But I can feel something, something's gonna be different about this Quell, while I was watching the footage of Cato in District twelve, I saw a girl, around thirteen,"

"President Snow," Caesar interrupts, "There are many girls in District twelve that are around thirteen,"

"I know that, but she was different she was crying and . . ." I'm interrupted by Caesar again.

"Amazing, a girl was crying in District twelve after the victor talked to them," I really want to get mad at him, but there is something about this man that makes you like him, it's impossible to get mad at him. I laugh.

"Caesar, I could do without the sarcasm," I tell him with a chortle.

"If I wasn't sarcastic President than what would I be,"

"You'd be the great interviewer Caesar Flickerman," I tell him.

"Yes, but the show wouldn't be as good without a bit of good natured humor," he replies.

"Thank you Caesar, just for being here tonight, it really relaxes my nerves, oh and tell your lovely wife Cecilia that she was gorgeous tonight, I think I might have appeared sullen at the party,"

"Will do sir," he says and then leaves. I forgot something, that's just what Caesar want though, he tries to make you forget something, most of the time it's anxiety, which he did.

I cruse under my breath, I had to talk with him about the girl in twelve, I'm just about to send an Avox after him when I think about our conversation. He did his job and I don't need to pry information out of him, I can wait.

* * *

1 month later

* * *

I'm sitting on my balcony looking out over the City Circle. This mansion was built for this view, I can see the whole City Circle, and the ring of pointed mountains surrounding the Capitol. The ring of mountains is symbolic of our power, its like a giant crown.

The City Circle is packed with citizens, waiting for the big announcement that will excite them to new levels.

"Now ladies and gentlemen, this year a big event is coming to Panem, that's right, this year is the Seventy-fifth anniversary of the Hunger Games, and that means its time for our Third Quarter Quell," he announces, standing up for a more dramatic effect.

I look out at the television screens, broadcasting this moment to the people in the Capitol that don't have a good spot to see. The main picture is of Caesar, with a little box in the top right corner devoted to my face. I smile, not an "I'm happy to be here" smile more of a "it's time for me to tell you how your kids will die" smile.

"Now without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, President Snow," he gestures up to my balcony and I watch the television screens, my small box swells to fill the entire screen. The anthem begins to play and I motion for the Avox behind me to bring me the Quell Box.

He walks out slowly, as he has been instructed to do, holding the simple wooden Quell Box high in the air, his head held down. I snatch the box off of the cushion and place it on the table in front of me. My Avox walks backwards, out of the scene and back into the curtains where he was hiding.

I slowly open the Box, listening to its old squeak. In the box there are many yellowed envelopes, each labeled with a year of a Quell. I pick out the year '75' and the two previous years: '50' and '25'.

I clear my throat before speaking right as the Anthem ends. Dead silence as the ears below wait to accept my words.

"The Dark Days, was a time of war," I begin and then I continue on with my already prepared speech that I have memorized. "The Founders made the Hunger Games as a way to keep peace in the land. The rules for the Hunger Games were set into motion, and for twenty four years the games went on. On the twenty fifth year, a special glorification of the Games was in order. This glorification has come to be known as a Quarter Quell.

"This glorified version of the Games was made to remind the Districts that they were the ones that caused uncountable deaths from their rebellion," now it's time for the past Quells. I open the top envelop marked 25, its already been opened before, by me, and I slide the small square of paper onto my table.

"On the Twenty-Fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who would represent it."

I pause letting the message sink in, before moving onto the next one. I open the second envelope, also previously opened by me, and pull out the small square of paper and place it directly on top of the previous one.

"On the fiftieth anniversary, as a reminder that two rebels died for each Capitol citizen, every district was required to send in twice as many tributes,"

I pause, letting this sink in too before lifting up the envelope marked 75.

"And now we honor out third Quarter Quell," I rip open the top of the envelope and fish out the small piece of paper that holds this years quell. Some people say that reading the Quell would be a disappointment because I would already know what the Quell was. What they don't realize is that I never touch the box until the anniversary. A troubled thought crosses my mind, what would I have done if Katniss would have won.

We were going to change the rules at the last second to have a better ending, but Cato won, nobody expected that! I can see this girl finding some way to get the two of them out of the arena alive. I don't like the answer but it comes to my mind anyways. I probably would have changed the Quell, making the Victors come back to the games.

I look at the piece of paper in my hand, and read it twice, I don't want to trip over any words. Satisfied that I will get each word right I read the Quell.

"As a reminder to the rebels that they tried their hardest to save their families by starting the rebellion, this years tributes will only be Volunteers," I end this statement loudly and hard, forcing the districts to bend to my will. The Capitol already is, but the districts seem to think that they can defy me. Almost as an afterthought I add.

"This is the will of the Capitol and none may defy it," I address these words to the small bands in the districts that are still trying to fight me and my Capitol.

"Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor," I finish my speech and the television turns back to Caesar who raps up and bids the nation good night.

The television screens go black and I lean back in my chair exhaling sharply, I feel as if I've run a marathon, which, sadly, would likely kill me. I get out of my desk and leave the Quell Box, my servants will take care of that for me.

On my way to my sleeping room, Caesar stops me in the hall, How'd he get in? I'll have to look into that.

"Nicely done," he congratulates me.

"Yeah, just like the time before that, and the time before that," I tell him.

"Your not that old!" He tells me.

"We are the same age," I remind him.

"Yeah, but your the older one," he reminds me.

"Am I so old that you don't remember me opening the first ever

Quarter Quell?" I ask him.

"But I'm only seventy,"

"And I'm eighty-three," I tell him.

"Oh," he says awkwardly.

"Yeah," I say, and then I laugh. We're two old friends talking about age and the Hunger Games.

"I forget sometimes," he says.

"You seem to forget more than just sometimes," I tell him.

"Your right I do forget most of the time," he laughs, perfect this will work out better with him laughing.

"You remember that girl I pointed out to you about a month ago,"

"Yes, yes I do,"

"She looks very familiar to me,"

"She should be familiar, she's Katniss Everdeens sister,"

"That's right, Katniss Everdeen, the rebellion instigator," I say.

"No, it's Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire," he corrects me, waving his hands to create a more dramatic effect.

"This has been nice, Caesar but its long time these old bones get some rest, I'll see you in the morning,"

"Good night President Snow," I walk to my bed chamber and change my clothes into clothes better suited to sleeping in. What a day, what a life. If only I could give this joy to my people, but I can't do that easily. I frown and turn over onto my side, the covers rustling with my movement.

I'll figure something out and I slip into sleep, my dreams are about the Hunger Games, how they might have ended if Cato would have died.

Katniss carries Peeta to the lake, and an announcement about the previous rule change being revoked is pounded through the speakers. Katniss looks at Peeta and he grabs the knife at his belt, Katniss aims a bow at his heart. Peeta throws the knife into the water and Katniss pulls out some berries from her bag.

The show the berries to the audience, Nightlock. They put the berries into their mouths and the rest of my dream become distorted and choppy. They spew the berries into the lake. I see Seneca being hanged for allowing them both to live. I watch myself giving Plutarch the position of Head Gamemaker.

The Victory Tour comes and goes, then the Quell announcement, I watch as I change the quell to send Katniss back to the games. They fight in the games, but Katniss blows up the force field surrounding the arena and District thirteen comes flying in a saves a few of the tributes.

I watch myself torture Peeta after we capture him and I watch as we firebomb District twelve, not many survive. A war starts between District thirteen and the Capitol, and the Capitol isn't doing to good to stop them. They infiltrate the Capitol and kill many of the peacekeepers, I see myself, bloody and dying, tied to a stake fifteen yards from Katniss and her bow, she pulls the arrow back and shoots President Coin from the balcony.

I laugh and get trampled by the enraged crowd. I bolt straight upright, looking at my white walls. I calm myself and set my head on the pillow and slip into a dreamless sleep.


	3. Tribute List

**I am pleased to announce that I now have the tribute form up, it's on my profile, you can submit two, as long as the second one is from the outer districts. Thanks**

* * *

_"Let others rise to take our place,"_

-Les Misérables

I'm watching the old broadcasts of the Reapings, the Games have been going on for a while now, but I'm going back through the footage of the Reapings, looking for any sign of rebellion in their eyes as they raise their hands and save their District from the torture of waiting.

President Snow didn't put me up to this, but threatening me with my life was a good enough reason to try to quash out rebellion. I replay each moment, scanning the crowd for any look of rebellion in the eyes of the children gathered in the District Square.

We found a catch in the Quell almost immediately after the announcing, if the district refused to volunteer someone, we could be left without a tribute. But of course we found a way to easily counter that, after five minutes of waiting for a volunteer the escort will announce that if no volunteers come within the next ten minutes, there will be an additional Hunger Games for that District and any other District that don't volunteer. The total will still be twenty-four tributes, but the twenty-four tributes are reaped evenly from all the districts that fall under this category.

Of course there isn't anything in District One, they seem excited to finally have a Quell that plays to their area of expertise. The lunge up to the stand and I don't pay any attention to their faces or anything.

I re watch District Two and find similar results. I move to District Three and scan the crowd as we wait for some timid person to raise their hand. After a few minutes a single individual raises her hand. My eyes lock with hers, even though she can't see me, and I try to seek out any sign of rebellion, there is none. As she raises her hand a few people give startled gasps, as if they didn't expect someone to raise their hand. A boy follows soon after with the same reaction, a few people start to cry.

I move to District Four, my favorite district. I love the taste if fresh clam and shrimp in the morning. District Four is a little hesitant to volunteer, but it is a semi career district so after a single minute we have two volunteers. This district doesn't react much, that's what I like when there isn't much drama at the Reapings, I prefer it in the Arena, and that's just what District 4 does. Not all the time though.

I move onto District Five and we wait for almost ten minutes before the silence is broken.

I loose interest in the rest of the districts, my only job is to find rebellion and then make sure it doesn't make it to the arena. I do however, write down the names of all the tributes and put them into a column and rows ending up with a list of all the tributes and their ages.

* * *

**District One**

Male- Rugged Manly (17)- submitted by Loverman22

Female- Ellianna 'Elle' Levanne (16)- submitted by LouisVuittonluver

**District Two**

Male- Ethan Valentine (18)- submitted by Richards25

Female- Severine "Rina" Deserdius (18)- submitted by Chronos Twilight

**District Three**

Male- Nester Dormo (16) -submitted by Hoperocker

Female- Pixel Calliope (16) -submitted by katsparkle13

**District Four**

Male- Nick Jenkins (17)- submitted by Dextram Dei

Female- Sandy Jack (15)- submitted by Third-Degree-Kisses

**District Five**

Male- Borris Tapa (15)- submitted by Loverman22

Female- Laurel Sterling (17)- submitted by I-am-Foxface

**District Six**

Male-

Female- Copper Ellis (13) -submitted by katsparkle13

**District Seven**

Male- (reserved for CallieTheCareer )

Female- (reserved forCallieTheCareer)

**District Eight**

Male- Jesse "Jay" Weft (17) -submitted by TypeWritersAreCool

Female- Colleen Reyna (16) -submitted by AnimeGirleGirl

**District Nine**

Male- Farrow Tare (13)- submitted by Ares the Gamemaker (I won't show favoritism, I just wanted someone in too)

Female- Miri Ismail-pignati (15)- submitted by POMforever

**District Ten**

Male- Lance Wolfe (17) -submitted by Hoprocker

Female- Aya Tasmos (14) -submitted by cakepopramen-chan

**District Eleven**

Male- Killian Jones (17) -submitted by peetaandclato

Female- Bianca Calder (17) -submitted by peetaandclato

**District Twelve**

Male- Altair Mistral (17)-submitted by Ariesbird

Female- Christine Dian (18)- submitted by Third-Degree-Kisses

* * *

I look over the list, and then go back through the clips of the Reapings, looking for any sign of rebellion. There is none, good I would rather not loose my head. I turn off my scream and look at the arena.

It's the standard scene with the Hunger Games, the careers searching for the weaker tributes and most of the tributes hiding among the environment to stay out of sight.

"Head Gamemaker Seneca Crane," a voice calls to me from below.

"What do you want Rin?" I say to him. I'm grumpy, mostly from the anxiety of the past few weeks and from being threatened by Snow.

"We have a situation in the arena," he tells me. Great, another piece to add to my load. I grumble and find what he's talking about. My face pales when I see what he's talking about.

"That is a situation, get the designers on it immediately," I start to shake as I remember snows comment. You can't fail now, not unless the nation burns. This just might make the nation burn and that means that I'll die.

The districts think its easy to live in the Capitol, but it is quite the opposite, at least for me.

"Control, divert the cameras," I command through my headset. "We can't let the public become aware of this, make sure that none of this is on camera," I repeat. "Blow up the cameras, mask them, just do something, anything to stop this from being seen,"

This could be very dangerous to my position, and my life.

"Rin, if you need me, I'll be upstairs," I say to him through the headset. The entire Gamemakers room is in havoc, people running from table to table buttons clicking furiously, someone even throws their glass keyboard across the room and it shatters into a million tiny blue fragments.

I run up the stairs into my main office and get on my computer. I use the cameras to find the disturbance and I begin clicking the keys wildly. Then the realization comes to me, this was Plutarch's work.

"Plutarch," I call through my headset and I get an immediate response.

"Yes sir," he says.

"Come to my office at once," I say as calmly as I can manage. He must know this is urgent because he opens my door in less than a minute.

"What is it sir?" He asks.

"This situation is a bit out of hand, and I have a feeling that you are the one behind it,"

"Me sir?" he asks in disbelief.

"Yes, I notice that you tend to get a bit extreme when it comes to stuff like this, and you want my job,"

"When have I ever been extreme?" he asks me incredulously.

"Lets think shall we," I say mockingly. "Last year, twenty-one mutts that killed someone in about ten seconds," I say

"But it . . ." I cut him off

"And the year before that, Tracker Jacker bombs?"

"They were a good idea,"

"They almost left us without a winner, Plutarch, you had three of them dropped in the middle of the last four tributes who, may I remind you, had knives at each others throats, almost literally," I say.

"I'm sorry sir, its just that sometimes it feels right," he says. I give him a flat look.

"Plutarch I don't know if you set this up, but this situation is right up your alley, and I want you to fix it,"

"Fix it sir, how do you fix that?" He asks me, gesturing at my image of the arena, not the public one my image.

"I don't know if its even possible, but if you don't fix it, then I loose my head and trust me, Plutarch, if I loose my head you will loose yours," I threaten him softly. "Now get out of my office and fix it," I tell him. When he leaves I rub my temples and close my eyes.

"What am I to do about this?" I asks myself. Strangely I don't have an answer. I always have an answer to a problem, always. My brain still doesn't come up with a way to get out of this.

* * *

**Again remember to visit my profile and submit a tribute**

** I ONLY HAVE ONE SPOT LEFT, THE _DISTRICT SIX MALE_ **

**so anyways thanks for being patient with me**


	4. District One

**So here I am, I finally got the District One Reapings up. Just a reminder I still need tributes for Districts Three and Four. Now I would like to publicly thank Loverman22 for Rugged Manley, and LouisVuittonluver for Elle Levanne. Now without further ado, the Reapings for District One.**

* * *

"We'll_ fight like twenty armies and we won't give up!" _

–Gavroche, Dawn of Anguish.

District One

Rugged Manley's POV

I roll over on my bed and look at the crystal clock on my dresser, its six fifteen, good I have plenty of time until the reaping. I always keep the clock close, it reminds me of Glory, and Glory makes me happy. I roll off the lavish bed and land on the floor, catching myself nimbly with my feet.

I open my dresser in the corner and pick out a nice blazer and keep the front open. I turn to my mirror and flex my abs. I pick out all six of them with ease, you'd have to be stupid not to see it. I release my muscles and I still see the defined outlines of them. _Yeah, that's right, I'm more muscular than you can ever hope to be. _

I'm not talking to anyone in particular, actually, yes I am. I'm talking to that stuck up looser, Zeus from the academy. They held a vote for who will be the tribute to get the chance to go the the arena, and he was the one they chose. He's eighteen and I'm seventeen, but he'll never even see my hand flash into the air before his.

Of course there is always competition, even for the ones they hand picked. But to give the best from the academy a better edge, the district escort has devised a signal for only the academy leaders to share. This signal tells the 'chosen one' when to volunteer. I'm sure I can beat him to it though.

I find some khaki pants that match my open blazer and slip them on. I've prepared this outfit, just for my special day. The day that I get to go into the Hunger Games.

I walk down the stairs leading into the kitchen of my sisters house. Shimmer is standing over a plate of bacon and sausage. A pan of eggs is scrambling on the stove, I look around for my brother.

"Where's Brute," I demand.

"He went out early," she replies.

"Why'd you make all this?" I ask bluntly.

"Why not, it is your special day and I remember eating toast on my reaping day. I thought you'd like something a little better,"

I don't bother to say thank you, I just grab the nearest sausage and eat it. Shimmer slides a plate, loaded with eggs, over to me. I add a few thick slices of juicy bacon to the plate and use the fork to eat the fluffy eggs. I eat the slices of bacon with my fingers.

I walk out the front door, not even thinking about thanking Shimmer. My mind is set on one thing today, and one thing only. Getting into the games.

* * *

Elle Levanne's POV

* * *

My eyes fly open in excitement. I remember the excitement I felt after the announcement of the Quell. This is my year, it was like a sign that was meant to put me into the games. This is the year when I would volunteer.

I think over how my day will go, none of the other girls will volunteer, no one would be stupid enough to challenge me. Everyone knows I would kill them before they reached the stand. I can easily see myself doing so, and then fighting off the twenty peacekeepers that show up to stop me.

I open up my nice dresser and find my reaping dress. It's a spectacular grey stain dress, with a pair of matching grey flats. I slip the smooth dress on, over my slim, yet tall, frame. I look in my mirror, my cold grey eyes look back. I flash a scowl, as if I were smiling. That is my way, cold and commanding. I love it.

I stroke my long hair. My fingers stroke the slight waves in the thick chestnut colored strands. I slip a hairband onto my head, keeping my hair from falling into my eyes. I take a final look at myself in the mirror, my slightly pale skin and my grey dress with a black hairband makes me look as gorgeous as always.

I leave my room and enter the kitchen. My mom is holding a glass of dark wine.

"We'll its about time ya' showed up," she tells me harshly.

"You can wait for me," I snap back at her. "It won't be long before I'm outa this place, and in the Victors Village," I roll the last words off my tung with a flourish.

"Yeah, once your out of here it'll be one less mouth to feed, " my dad says after he walking into the room. I ignore this comment, we've had these same conversations every year before the Reaping, except for now its really happening.

I look for some breakfast, but of course there isn't anything. I snatch my mothers wine from the table and poor myself a glass into a crystalline cup, my parents don't offer a reaction.

I down the sickly sweet drink and glare at my parents. I don't care much for it, the stuff fogs my mind and gives me less of an edge. But I go through the after effects it lets them know that they can't stop me from doing whatever I want. I set the large wine bottle on the empty table with quite a bit more force than necessary.

I walk out the door of my house and slam it. I think I'll have breakfast at one of my 'friends' houses. I go through them in my head. The question I ask is 'who should I eat breakfast with' but my real intent is 'who do I want to bully today'

I make up my mind, I'll go to Olivianne's house.

I walk across town in my stunning dress, the Reaping is at eight, so I have plenty of time. I glare at the kids I walk past. I know most of them from school, and they know me. I lock eyes with each passerby, letting them see my malice. Most of the younger ones scurry past as I walk by, but occasionally there is someone older than me that walks by with defiance in his eyes. I scowl and have to stop myself from attacking him, it won't do me much good if I go to jail before the Reaping even starts.

I make it to Olivianne's, and knock on the door once, then let myself in. The odors of freshly made food enters my nostrils. I almost let my scowl falter, almost.

Olivianne is there in a flash, she tries to hide it, but I can see her faint tremble.

"G- Good morning," she stutters.

"Olivianne, who is it?" Her mother calls from the kitchen. I push my way past Olivianne, who tries to move to the side before I can push her too hard.

"It's me Mrs. Fanning," I call towards the kitchen.

"Oh, it's you Elle," she says without much enthusiasm.

"Yes, it me," I say as charmingly as I can manage. "I didn't get any breakfast at home so I thought I could come here instead," I say, walking into the kitchen. The buffet she has set out is grand, much better than anything my mother would have ever cared to prepare. Hash browns covered in cheese, eggs with bacon mixed in it, toast with many different preserves spread generously on top, crisp bacon with sweet maple syrup. The varieties of fruits are endless.

"Why of course you can eat here," she says sweetly.

"Thank you Mrs. Fanning," I say and grab myself one of their nicer plates form a cupboard. I move around the food, being generous in my amounts. I place my plate of steaming goodies over an open chair.

"Olivianne," I say, getting her attention. "Could you get me a glass of orange juice," she complies, grabbing me a tall crystal glass.

"Um, we don't have any orange juice Elle," she say.

"Than make some," I tell her. "Do you expect me to eat this without fresh juice?" I ask rhetorically, she answers anyway.

"No, of course not," she responds, she finds a juicer from a drawer and pockes it a few of the plump oranges in the fruit bowl. She presses the fruit, juices stream into the cup. When she's done she gives me the bright orange liquid. I take a swig of it and am pleased with its flavor.

I dig into my breakfast, using my silverware. I finish quickly.

"Thank you for the meal," I say happily, I don't really thank her, but it confuses the whole lot of them.

I open the door and head down to the district square.

* * *

Rugged Manley's POV

* * *

I grunt as I walk the distance to the District Square. Why does Victors Village have to be so far away from the District Square? I keep on walking it takes me thirty minutes to arrive, and already there is a huge line of eager Careers waiting to get into the ropes off areas.

I see Brute in the crowd that has managed to get in. Most people would wave or try to get his attention, but not me there isn't any reason to, and besides it would look rather childish for a career to wave at someone, even if that someone is his brother.

Someone hits my shoulder. I turn around an almost deck him in the stomach, but its just my friend Perseus.

"Checking out the competition?" He asks me. I grunt in response. "No? Well I am. Not really the competition but more the girls," he nudges my shoulder. He laughs and then his mood suddenly become serious. "Rugged, do you know who that is," he says pointing to a group of girls, they look pretty.

"Perseus, you won't get them to like you unless you win the games,"

"No, I'm not looking a them, I'm looking at her, you know who she is," I squint down his pointing finger and see the pale girl he's pointing at.

"Is that your new girlfriend?" I ask. The girl isn't pretty, and I can tell it will get in his nerves if I pester him about it.

"No, that's Ellianna Levanne, she's said to be one heck of a killer," he informs me.

"If that's Ellianna, than I'm President Snow," I tell him, trying to make the doubt in my voice as obvious as possible, sometimes he can be really thick. I add a laugh to the end of it, just an extra clue for him.

"Nope, that's Ellianna, I'm sure of it," he tells me. I look closer at the girl, she has a scowl on her face as she waits in the line. I watch humorously as she looses patience and pushes through the crowd to get to the front. Three of the girls detach themselves from the crowd and follow.

I continue to watch in disbelief as she gets through the check-in stations. The peacekeepers should have stopped them from pushing through the crowd. I move my head away form the group of girls and onto the front of the lone, we have a few more people to go before its our turn to check in.

I don't feel the prick of the needle as it draws a bit of my blood and they analyze it, I'm cleared to go through. I push my way through the crowd of younger kids, up to the spot closest to the stage. Perseus follows, I don't wait for him to catch up.

"He Rugged, wait up," Perseus hollers behind me. I acknowledge his call by speeding up. I reach the second to last section of roped off areas. I see the stage, merely twenty feet in front of me. I also see Zeus, his blond head poking up from the crowd of shorter careers.

At seven foot two he is easily the tallest person in District One, part of the reason he was picked to be this years tribute. A small crowd of admirers are gathered around him, a few of the eighteen year old girls are mingled with them, even though they should be on the other side of the path leading up to the stage.

I see my dad up on the stage, along with my mom. She is in one of the chairs in the past Victor section, and my dad is in the mayors chair, lounging back with a look of total satisfaction on his face.

Most would say that this isn't appropriate for the mayor to be laid back, but my dad pulls it off well. A tap on my arms alerts me to Glory's presence at my side.

"Hey Rugged," she says waving her long golden hair and batting her eyes.

"Not right now, Glory," I tell her sharply. "I'm in the Zone," she looks away, disappointed.

"I'll talk to you later then," she says.

"Not much later, Glory, this is my year," she brightens up and smiles.

"I'll talk to you after the reaping then, I'll make sure to sponsor you with whatever you need," she says. Then she walks over to the female side of the square. Just in time too, the moment she ducks under the ropes my dad gets up out of his chair and walks to the microphone. The murmured conversations stop completely, everyone in the district has the utmost respect for Mayor Manley, everyone except me that is.

"Good morning District One!" he says his voice full of excitement for the upcoming event. "Here we stand Seventy-five years since the creation of the Hunger Games. A cheer goes around. "Unlike the other districts, we saw this as a gift, instead of a punishment," more cheers. I clap grudgingly, he did always know how to move a crowd to do what he wants. "Before the Hunger Games came about the Capitol had set up a nation so that we could survive through the after effects of the war. The other Districts saw imaginary flaws in this plan, and chose to rebel and to try to take control for themselves.

"We chose not to fight against the Capitol and thus became one of the most favored Districts of Panem. As a reminder to the Districts that no uprising must ever come again, we got the pageant of the Hunger Games. We all know the rules of the Games so I will not bore you with repeated instruction," a few snickers go up at this remark.

"But remember this: this time is a time when we should be thankful, even if our Tributes fail to succeed. We must remain strong to remember that we are of the strongest District. Even if our friends die, remember that they die with honor, lets take a moment and remember our past friends that have lost their lives, striving towards that which is unattainable for the others but virtually in our grip. We are the only district with enough pride to let our tributes die, and still recieve the honor it brings. Now a moment of silence," the square goes silent, not even the birds sing, everyone is thinking, either about past Tributes, or about how they might soon get their chance to bring the greater honor to the district.

"Now," my dad says breaking the silence after a minute. "I am pleased to present District One's escort, Platinum Townly," he says this clapping and backing away from the microphone. The escort bounces to the stage, her fluffy black wig and a tight diamond dress are spectacular in a way that can only be obtained at one place. The Capitol. And that's where I will be heading off to in a few minutes.

* * *

Elle Levanne's POV

* * *

I look at the huge line in front of me. I tap my foot impatiently while my 'friends' make conversation with those around me. To my left is Olivianne, she has a non-worried expression on her face but I can feel the waves of nervousness coming off her like a radio tower.

To my right is Mari, I need to keep her in check, she gets rebellious sometimes and I need to put her back in her place. Standing behind me is my thug, Madeline. I scowl at the group of people around me. I listen to the conversations around me but I never hear a word. No one talks to me, they're to afraid. I see a few people point at me and move on, I'm used to it. No one expects this girl, no matter how tall she is, to be able to fight as deadly as I can. I see a pair of boys, pointing at me. One of them has long black hair and the other has brown. The brown headed kid has the front of his shirt open, exposing his chest.

They laugh and I begin to feel a bit self conscious, I've been laughed at before, but I've always needed to attack them. My every instinct tells me to stab a knife into these two boys and then go merrily on my way. I hold myself back, biting my lower lip.

"Come on girls, I'm tired of waiting," I tell my posse with a wave. They break their conversations and follow me as I push my way through the crowd to the check in spot and I shove a few kids to the ground. I see the peacekeepers looking hesitant about stopping me, none come.

"Ellianna Levanne," I tell the woman sharply, she pricks my finger and lets me through. _Finally, can't people just accept that I should have to push myself through the crowd to get to the square, they should have just parted for me. _

I wait for my group before moving on, we duck under the ropes that mark the sixteen year old section and we move to our spot at the front of the section.

I wait for the reaping to start. I wait ten long minutes before the reaping actually starts. _Come on! Can we skip all the treaty business, we all know it by heart._ I block out Mayor Manley's remarks and I clench my hands into fists. We have the annual moment of silence after the talk about honor and the other stuff.

Finally Platinum walks up to the mic and gives us her welcome.

"Welcome District One," she says, we all clap. _Lets just hurry this along shall we_! I yell at her in my mind.

"This year is Quarter Quell," she announces with excitement. I correct my thoughts, _I should be excited soon I can get my wish to kill without the pesky law._ I bring my mind back and actually listen to what she has to say.

"This years Quell marking the Seventy-fifth year of the Hunger Games," she pauses clearing her throat before continuing. "As a reminder to the rebels that they tried their hardest to save their families by starting the rebellion, this years tributes will only be Volunteers,"

She smiles as we all cheer. _Here it is,_ I think. _Finally the time I will get to go in._ She begins to explain the rules of volunteering, we are one of the only districts that this announcement ever comes to, since we have volunteers every year.

"The rules for Volunteering are simple," she begins. "Once I open the session, any eligible young man may raise his hand, accompanied with a shout of 'I volunteer as tribute' easy enough?" She asks. When she gets no responses she continues. "In the event of a tie of however many individuals there will be a tiebreaker to see who gets the spot of Tribute. I will determine what the tiebreakers will be and the amount of rounds will be determined by the amount of volunteers," she explains.

"Now without further ado, I will now open the session of volunteering starting… now," she yells the last word and about thirty hands fly into the air, all accompanied with a shout of "I volunteer!" The yells echo in the distance and Platinum has a smile on her overly-makeuped face.

"Lets to to the film," she says. The screens fill with the slow motion image of thirty or so hands jump into the air. Only five tie. "Now you five come up to the stand," she says and the five Careers do so with much applause from their friends. I ignore the rest of the decision.

I whip my hair back, slapping a few girls across the face behind me. I laugh to myself, my mind is being utterly consumed by one thought; _I will get into the games, I will finally kill at my leisure, blood will flow at my whim, pain will flourish within my grasp. _

The square gasps as the tribute is chosen, I look up, but don't really see who it is, my eyes are preoccupied with the images my brain is creating.

"Now," Platinum says, "It is time for one brave young women to come up to the stage," she calls. "I open the volunteering session, now," she yells out the last word like she did before. My hand shoots up into the air with razor sharp instincts, I look around, my anger becoming spiked and ready to attack anyone who apposes me. I see more than a few hands go back down until I'm the only one with her hand raised. I chuckle then I yell.

"I Volunteer as Tribute," Platinum looks more than a little befuddled. She regains her composure quickly.

"It looks like we have our only," she says the word only as if it were new to her dialect. "Volunteer, young lady would you please come up to the stand," she says. I stride over to the rope marking the edge of the section, unlike before the group parts for me and I don't have to hurt anyone, shame.

I talk my own sweet time in walking to the stage. I walk up the steps and eventually end up passing the rows of Victor chairs. I catch my mom's eyes and she pointedly ignores me.

"What is your name," Platinum asks me. She tilts the microphone stand to my mouth.

"I am Ellianna Levanna," I say, enunciating clearly so everyone will hear my voice loud and clear. My momentary burst of adrenaline is gone, but I feel the power lurking inside me.

"Lovely," she says. "Now, shake hands both of you," I reach my cold hand out and he grasps it, a little warily. I have already intimidated my district partner, _this is going to be easy. _

* * *

Rugged Manley's POV

* * *

"Welcome District One," Platinum stars into the microphone, clapping along with the rest of us. "This year is Quarter Quell," she continues. "This years Quell marking the Seventy-fifth year of the Hunger Games," she clears her throat before continuing. "As a reminder to the rebels that they tried their hardest to save their families by starting the rebellion, this years tributes will only be Volunteers,"

Many cheers and whoops are shouted from the crowd. After the yells calm down she tells us the rules.

"The rules for Volunteering are simple," she begins. "Once I open the session, any eligible young man may raise his hand, accompanied with a shout of 'I volunteer as tribute' easy enough?" She says, the crowd remains silent. "In the event of a tie of however many individuals there will be a tiebreaker to see who gets the spot of Tribute. I will determine what the tiebreakers will be and the amount of rounds will be determined by the amount of volunteers," she explains. _If I could I would just skip the explanation of everything and just start the competition._

"Now without further ado, I will now open the session of volunteering starting… now," I wait until I hear the letter 'O' before raising my hand. I'm lucky too about thirty hands fly up just milliseconds after my own. My shout of 'I Volunteer' is lost in the many others. Zeus has his hand in the air at the same moment mine is, unless somebody beat us both than we tied for the spot.

"Lets go to the film," Platinum says. The film replays and my stomach flutters as I see the multitude of hands vie for the attention. Zues's hand and my hand go up at the same instant, along with three others. I let out my pent up breath, and then smile up at my father. He looks into my eyes, a small glimmer of hope, a hope that I might actually be worth something.

"Now, you five come up to the stand," I detach myself from the others and, amid bursts of cheering, I strut to the stand. "What are your names," she asks us when we have all assembled on the stage .

"Zeus," Zeus says swiftly. She moves onto the eighteen-year-old in front of me. He gives his name, Yomen, and then she moves onto me. "Rugged," I say loudly, making sure I don't have to repeat myself. She moves along the line and the remaining two give their names.

"Now as a tradition, the first tiebreaker will be popularity," the crowd of District One kids cheer with excitement. Platinum hushes the crowd. "We will start with Zeus," she says. She tries to put a hand above his head, but fails miserably, even with her seven inch heels. She gives up after her wig almost falls off. "Zeus," she says.

It's as if a bomb goes off in the district square, the amount of noise is incredible. Platinum nods, then moves on. She announces the name of the next, Yomen, and he is greeted with a significantly less amount of cheers. She moves to me.

"Rugged," she says. I get more cheers than Yomen did, but nowhere near the amount that Zeus got. The next two get about two people to cheer for them. They are dismissed back into the audience, looks of disappointment on their faces.

I laugh as they walk away with their heads down. Platinum waits for them to find their spots before continuing.

"Our next tiebreaker will be birthdays," she says. This is one of the least popular tiebreakers. Yomen, brightens with a look so immense satisfaction on his face.

"Zeus, how close is your birthday?" She asks him.

"In four months," he replies.

"Rugged, how about you?" she asks me.

"Three months," I reply, not bothering to lie, she has people researching our birthdays right now, making sure we don't lie. If you lie, it you get disqualified.

"And Yomen," she asks. He smiles broadly before answering.

"Tomorrow I will be nineteen," he announces. Hushed whispers run through the District square. That would have made him nineteen when he was in the arena, the oldest tribute in history.

"I'm sorry Yomen, you are dismissed," Platinum says.

"wait, what did you say," Yomen asks, as if he didn't hear her right.

"The tiebreaker was whoever a birthday was closest will be disqualified," she says simply. Yomen's face blanks and then what she said sinks in. He looses his temper and runs off the stand, he jumps the rail, ignoring the stairs and the five foot drop. He bolts through the gasping crowd and out of the district square.

"Let him go," my dad calls to the peacekeepers, manning the machine guns on the buildings. They swivels the guns around, back on the citizens in the district square.

"Our last and final tiebreaker will be," she pauses dramatically before continuing. "What is the population of District Twelve?" The square goes silent as Zeus and I glare at each other, thinking about what the answer might be.

"Seeing as neither of you know the answer you must each give your best guess, whoever gets closest will be this years tribute, Zeus, we will start with you," Platinum says.

Zeus lets out a long hmmm before answering. "Eleven thousand five hundred and seventy six, " _wow detailed aren't we,_ I think to myself. I would rather not use too many words, so I take my best guess. It must be less than eleven thousand so I go with that, I'll probably be closer.

"Eleven thousand," I say. Platinum glances at each of us before giving the answer.

"The correct answer is, eight thousand two hundred and six," she says. Zeus lets out a yell and I can see his muscles pulsing as he stops himself from throttling me. "You are excused, Zeus," she tells him. Before he leaves he yells at me.

"I will look forward to your death," he calls at me, before walking down the stairs with very controlled steps. Half of my mind is amazed that I actually made it, the other half is putting a smug look on my face. Platinum continues with the Reaping.

"Now, it is time for one brave young women to come up to the stage," I look at the female section and pick out Grace, she waves at me. "I open the volunteering session now," she says. Many hands fly into the air, and then slowly go down. At the end, a tall girl all in grey is left raising her hand. She lets out a crisp "I volunteer,"

"It looks like we have our only," she trips over the word only, I know just how she feels, I don't think anyone has ever volunteered without any opposition, ever. "Volunteer, young lady would you please come up to the stand," she continues.

She walks up to the stage with a scowl that seems stuck to her face.

"What is your name," Platinum asks quickly.

"I am Ellianna Levanna," she says smoothly. I feel a sudden surge of panic, but calm my emotions, the rumors say she can smell fear.

"Lovely, now shake hands both of you," she tells us. A single moment of hesitation, probably from the more rational part of my brain, causes me to grip her cold hand slowly. She smiles, an evil look that shouldn't ever be on a human face.

Although I'm disappointed in my district partner, I can't help but be excited. My dreams are coming true, I am now officially in the Hunger Games.

* * *

**It's a nice long chapter, I hope your satisfied. **

**Now, to those it may concern: I need sponsor items, just items not prices. Unless you guys don't want your tribute to get what they want.**

**anyway enough threats. :) **

**I do need some tributes for 3, otherwise it will take me longer to get the next few chapters up. Oh you may be thinking that answering trivia questions isn't the career way, sorry I was watching a game show at the time of writing, and I wasn't quite sure how to make it work, so yeah.**

**anyway thanks for reading.**


	5. District Two

**Ethan Valentine was submitted by Richards25, and Severine "Rina" Deserdius was submitted by Chronos Twilight. I have a few characters in this chapter that I made, just to make the chapter a bit more interesting. **

**I just realized that I forgot to do a disclaimer, I do not own the Hunger Games or most of the characters.**

**I think that's it, so may the Reapings for District Two begin.**

* * *

_"Some will fall and some will live, Will you stand up and take your chance?"_

—Feuilly, Do You Hear The People Sing

**District Two:**

Ethan Valentine's POV

When I wake up, I find myself staring a the stone underside of my roof. This is the day. The day I become the greatest person District Two has ever seen, besides Cato of course, I don't think he will ever be shown up.

I sit up on my stiff stone bed. Sometimes being the son of a stone mason has its downs. Just about everything I own is made of stone, but the upside is we are pretty rich cause we never have to spend too much money on furniture.

I get about two minutes beforehand sister comes crashing in through my door, also stone, sometimes I feel like we just live in a cave.

"Ethan, glad your up, the Reapings are in twenty minutes, get dressed and hurry up," she tells me than she leaves her hair in a long ponytail. I shake my head, banishing the sleep form it in seconds.

I slid off the stone bed and slid my hands through my hair. When this is over I swear I will never even look at a block of stone again, I think to myself. I dress in my usual outfit and take one last look at my room, I won't see it again for at least a few months, so why not get a final good look.

The boxy shape is just like everything else in this town, grey and hard. I close the door behind me and walk down the tube of a hallway to the kitchen. My dad is siting stiff backed in a stone chair, if you added a crown, he'd look just like a king.

"What is this?" He asks me, gesturing at my choice of clothes. I stay silent.

"No, no, this will not work, you will uphold the family name until the day I die, so that means forever," he says this with a chuckle. He pulls out a box, very similar to the box holding the clothes for the tribute to wear, and then hands it to me.

I lift the lid off and pull out the black and white outfit. The pants are black and the shirt is white.

"Now, go change," he tells me, pointing a finger in the general direction of my room. I walk back down through the stone halfway and yank off my shirt, then my trousers. I slid the slick black ones on and then the white shirt, I'm tempted to give myself a wound and then spill blood on the shirt, but I resist.

I end up with my uncomfortable reaping suit and then travel back to the kitchen

"Wonderful, now lets roll," he says, walking out the front door. I don't complain about not getting breakfast, its better that way, maybe I will learn to cope with hunger.

Our house was carved out of a mountain by our ancestors, and yet we still use it.

"Where is Elvorix?" My dad asks. "She was here just a second ago," right as he finishes Elvorix comes crashing through the front door, her deep violet dress snapping with her rush. Her black hair is in her normal ponytail and she has a gold crown on her head, the victors crown.

"Why're you wearing that?" My dad asks her.

"Oh, this?" She says, taking the crown off her head. "Mom let me wear it," she lies.

"I though you were gonna wear it for your eighteenth reaping," dad says with suspicion the most prominent thing in his voice.

"I was thinking of volunteering this year," she says, looking down at her blue shoes.

"And why would you volunteer this year, if you volunteered this year than you two would have to fight each other at the end, and if I know you two well enough you'd both end up killin' each other," he says. El looks into his eyes, her eyes are set on pleading mode.

"But daddy," she starts.

"Fine," he says throwing his large hands into the air. "Do whatever you like, just don't get yourself picked together," he tells us. El is trying to hold back a smile of victory.

"Thanks daddy," she says.

"Yeah you forced me to," he mumbles,

"Would I do that?" She asks innocently.

"Enough nonsense," he says ignoring his daughter. "If you two don't get down to the square soon, I'm gonna be in for it when your mom doesn't see you there," with that we head down to the district square.

* * *

Rina Deserdius's POV

* * *

"It's time to get up, Rina," my mom croons. My eyes flutter open and I smile at my mothers face.

"Thanks mom," I say sweetly.

"You might want to get ready, the Reaping is soon," she says in the same motherly voice, sliding a strand of my red hair behind me ear.

"Oh the reaping!" I bolt up straight.

"Yes, you might not have time for a decent breakfast," she says. "But if you can find something in under three minutes you can have it," she says. I get out of bed and look at the dress she has set out for me. It's a long, deep blue dress, with a pair of light red shoes.

"Oh," I gasp. "Mom, where did you get all this, this must have cost a fortune," she smiles.

"I made the dress, and the shoes used to be mine," she says. I'm beyond words, she must have taken weeks or possibly even months, to make this without me ever seeing any of.

"Why mother, thank you," I say, hugging her.

"Just a special gift for your last day with me," she tells me."Ok enough of this, the Reaping starts in about ten minutes we need to hurry," she walks out of the room and I get into my reaping outfit. The fibers of the dress are made of satin and the smoothness somehow soothes the nervousness out of me.

I leave my room, not bothering to look back, I'll probably see it later tonight.

I find my mom in the kitchen holding a plate with a few pieces of bread topped with fruit jam.

"Thank you," I say before taking a piece of the toasted bread and eating it. I finish eating and walk out the front door, my mother close behind me. My house is within a minutes walk of the district square, I can see it from my doorstep. I pause, thinking about how soon I will be leaving.

A push from my mom indicates that I've been standing in the doorway too long, I walk down the stairs leading up to my doorstep and onto the street. In sixty seconds I make it to the check in station and see that the line is mostly gone.

I find an empty spot and have my finger pricked with the needle. I am allowed to go through and I work my way into front of the eighteen-year-old section and find Kass in the section behind me.

"Where have you been?" She asks over the rope that separates the two age groups.

"Well I woke up maybe twenty minutes ago, then I got this dress that my mom made for me, then I ate a piece of bread, then I had to check in, and here I am," I say quickly.

"Ok, now, you plan on volunteering?" She asks me. I shrug my shoulders.

"Why not? I probably won't get in anyway, and the academy expects me too," I tell her.

"Oh yeah the academy," she says with very little enthusiasm.

"Hey look, there's no harm in putting up a show, I'll just raise my hand and I probably won't get in,"

"And if you do?" She prods.

"Im a strong career, I can win, I'll come back," I say. "If I get in of course," I say the last part quickly. A gunshot sounds through the open air, then a second.

"Quit fighting!" An amplified voice says coming from one of the peacekeeper nests on the roof. Everyone in the square cranes their necks, trying to get a good look at the scuffle. In District Two a fight is more than just a little fight, it gets serious knives are usually involved and on many occasions we find the remains of the fighters in the street in the morning.

I catch a glimpse of a tall robed figure, holding a giant staff in his right hand. Following the infamous Galagix Amia. His blood red hair is colored where its going gray, and his single golden earring is shinning off the sun.

"Who do you think was messing Galagix?" I ask Kass.

"Probably some kid trying to be tough," she replies with a shrug of her shoulders.

"They will be in so much trouble after this, I'll be surprised if they don't get whipped a few times," I say.

"Ok, shut up, the mayor is getting up now," she tells me. I turn around true enough the mayor is walking to the microphone.

* * *

Ethan Valentine's POV

* * *

When we arrive at the district square the place is packed. El runs off to find her group of friends, her head now crown less.

"I guess it's just you and me now," my dad says, patting my shoulder firmly with his hand. I extract his hand from my shoulder.

"No, just you," I say then walk away from him. I find Justin and punch his biceps.

"Ouch, what was that!?" He asks incredulously, holding his arm as his muscles stop working. I don't reply, instead I snicker. He lunges for my arm and I deflect the strike. He comes for a return strike and manages to hit me in the chest.

I punch his chest and he grabs my hand. I spin around him and knee his spine. A firm hand grabs my shoulder. Finally the peacekeepers come, I think to myself.

"What do you boys think your doing," the person asks me. I feel like a schoolboy who was caught playing with a knife, and yes I would know what that feels like.

I look up into the red eyes of one of the past victor, Galagix Amia. "What do you two think your doing," he repeats. He squeezes my shoulder with an inhumanly strong hand. I'm determined to not show any sign of pain, to show him that he can't scare me. The pressure increases and it never wavers, he seems to be squeezing Justin too cause he's trying to remove Galagix's hand from his shoulder.

"Just playing around," Justin lets out. The pressure is released.

"Oh yes, just playing. Why not bring the knives in?" He asks. We don't respond. "The knives will help, make sure you keep your guard up," he continues. He reaches into a pocket on the interior of his red suit. He removes his hands holding two dim red knives.

With a forceful shove he pushes me and Justin to the ground and then throws a knife at our feet. "Go on, fight," I grab the knife and leap to my feet and slash at Galagix's face. He doesn't move, but my new knife doesn't reach him, a staff intercedes and stops the knife from even touching him.

"Thank you Erno," Galagix says. "But it was unnecessary, those knives were blunt, he couldn't have hurt me," he continues, addressing the tall figure behind him.

The figure standing behind him is hidden in the shadows of a heavy cloak. In his hand he is holding a seven foot tall staff, with a diamond blade at the top. All I can see of his face is his thin mouth.

"The lesson here is, don't fight your friends," Galagix admonishes us. "I want my knives back," he says bluntly. Justin jumps up, holding the knife. I don't move to give him the knife.

"I said I would like my knife back," Galagix says, enunciating each word carefully. I don't give him the knife, Justin looks at me warily but he remains holding the knife. I'm not sure why I'm still holding the knife, but being shoved to the ground made me defiant.

"Do not, force my hand," he says stiffly. I continue to not respond to his threat. He slides another ruddy red knife out from the interior of his suit and holds it in his left hand positioning it right below the hole in his hand.

"I don't want to hurt you," he says.

"You said these knives were blunt," I reply.

"Do you really want to test that?" He asks raising his eyebrows the tatters of his ripped eyelids fluttering in a sudden gust of wind.

"Bring it," I tell him, determined to make his threat backfire on him.

"Fine," he says, then he swings the knife at my stomach. This is unexpected, but my years of my training have sharpened my reflexes. I barely parry the swift swipe, and attempt to make my own attack.

To my side Justin grunts in pain and falls to the ground, the red knife clattering to the ground. Erno retracts his staff from Justin's stomach and grabs the knife off the cobblestone ground and slashes at me.

This is not fair! I say in my mind. Two against one. I slash out at Erno and Galagix deflects the strike, then he uses the defensive attack to try to gut me. A gunshot sounds and I hear the bullet ping off the ground and I look up at the peacekeeper standing with a rifle atop a building.

I get a knife in the gut. True to his words, the knife is blunt and feels like a punch. Another gunshot sounds and the ping is much closer than before.

"Quite fighting!" The peacekeeper yells at us through a microphone.

"Sorry, just a friendly little squabble," Galagix yells back at him. I dropped the knife on the ground after he slashed my stomach. Erno stoops to pick it up, I lash out at him.

"You town folk never learn do you?" Galagix says with a laugh stepping on my arm with his cleated shoes. He walks away and the robed figure of Erno trails after him. The line is gone, leaving the four of us left to enter.

I spit blood from my mouth and help Justin up to his feet.

"I swear, I will get him back if its the last thing I do," I mutter to him.

"I'm with you all the way," he mutters back. The lady sticks my finger with the needle and lets us in. I cram myself into the pack of eighteen-year-olds and look up at the mayor as he begins the Treaty of Treason.

"A hundred and fifty years ago," he begins. "There was a place called North America. North America was bombarded with endless war and the place called America was destroyed.

"During the next ten years the earth was in upheaval, endless earthquakes, tsunamis and hurricanes. After these calamities subsided, a group of people created the nation of Panem

"Panem was a great nation, with thirteen Districts producing food and resources, and the Capitol protecting the districts. It was a symbiotic relationship. But the thirteenth District thought this wasn't fair and so they attacked the Capitol.

"The other Districts joined in the fight, including us. The districts were subdued and as a chain to keep the rebellious districts in their place, the Hunger Games arose and were established.

"The rules of the Hunger Games are as follows," his demeanor changes as he reads this part. "Each District will offer up a male and a female tribute who will then be taken by the Capitol and fight to the death in a public arena until a lone victor remains. This victor's district will be bathed in gifts until the next years Hunger Games, and the Victor will be bathed in riches beyond imagination," he finishes the speech and his spot is taken by the escort, Giovanni Glow.

"District Two," he says into the microphone. "As your dear Mayor said this is a special occasion, and this year has an extra surprise wrapped in it, this year is a Quarter Quell," he finishes this as if expecting applause, he gets a few. With a down fallen expression he reads the Quell "as a reminder to the rebels that they tried their hardest to save their loved ones, this years tributes will only be volunteers," he finishes this grandly.

"I prefer to be gentlemanly so lets begin with the ladies shall we,"

* * *

Rina Deserdius's POV

* * *

The treaty of treason ends with the rules of the Hunger Games. "I could have read that a whole lot better," I sinker to Kass.

"Rina, shut up," she tells me sternly.

"Fine," I turn back around and watch Giovanni Glow walk up to the microphone. He announces the Quell, "as a reminder to the rebels that they tried their hardest to save their families, this years tributes will only be volunteers," I clap politely along with many others.

"I prefer to be gentlemanly so lets begin with the ladies shall we," he says. No one answers, District Two is one of those districts that's one of the favorites, but we see how stupid the Capitol actually is. So like the bullies we are, we take advantage of that stupidity and steal most of their money by winning their games. Simple.

The announcement is almost here, and like a good girl, I'm gonna raise my hand at the signal.

"All volunteers please raise your hands at the sound of the buzzer," he tells us. No one has any idea of how long the timer will be, but most of us are straining our every nerve, waiting for the buzzer to go off.

_Am I really going to do this?_ I ask myself. _Yes, I will do this, more for the appearance than for anything else, but this had better be worth the effort I'm about to put in._

The buzzer sounds and I throw my hand into the air, it feels like I dislocate my shoulder. After two seconds a slow-motion image appears on every screen in the district square. A few hands tie for the spot, and to my disappointment, my hand is there too. The three of us troop up to the stage, Giovanni has a huge grin on his face.

"Here we have three courageous young women, only one of you will be able to get into the games, now who is that going to be?" He asks, trying to sound enticing, he fails.

"It'll probably be me," I snicker, more to myself than to anyone else, that was probably not my smartest choice of the day.

"Young lady," he says, pointing at me. "You are the first to volunteer yourself the second time, congratulations," he says.

_Crap._

"You two are excused," he says, motioning for the other two girls off the stage. They look at me with utmost hatred.

"Now moving on to the boys," he says. I stand on the stage, more uncomfortably than I would care to mention, since this was all an act in the first place I need to keep up the show.

I put on my best 'I'm-listening-to-every-word-your-saying' face.

Giovanni presses a button in his hand behind his back.

"Volunteers please raise your hand at the sound of the buzzer," he says. I begin to scold myself, nice job Rina, not only did you get yourself stuck in an awful situation, you're probably gonna die before the final eight.

The buzzer sounds out, and a tidal wave of strong, dangerous boys raise their hands with fire in their eyes.

* * *

Ethan Valentine's POVp

* * *

I watch as the girls raise their hands after the buzzer goes off. The screens fill with the slow-motion image of the hands flying into the air. The three that tie walk up to the stage.

"Here we have three courageous young women, only one of you will be able to get into the games, now who is that going to be?" He says, maintaining an air of suspense.

"It'll probably be me," one of the girl laughs to herself.

"Young lady," he says, pointing at the girl. "You are the first to volunteer yourself the second time, congratulations," he says. The girl looks shocked that she got picked for tribute. She regains her composure and looks at Giovanni as he continues, I wrench my attention back to his glowing face. My back is starting to throb from where I landed roughly just a few minutes ago. The pain isn't bad, I've had much worse, but it does slightly distract me.

"Now moving on to the boys," he says into the microphone. "Volunteers please raise your hand at the sound of the buzzer," he tells us, just like before. The moment feel like hours as I tense all of my muscles completely. My hand is at my shoulder, but then again, so is everyone else's. The buzzer rings through the speakers and I jerk my hand into the air along with many others, my thoughts are racing, but one seems to be the most prominent. I will win. I will win. The phrase flashes across my minds eye as I watch the replay.

Just like before the cameras do a slow-motion replay and we see the six hands that tie for the spot.

"Please come to the stage," Giovanni tells us. I worm my way out of the tightly packed eighteen-year-olds.

"Good luck man," Justin tells me from behind. I find myself on the stage after the ten foot walk to the black stage. I'm the first to arrive and see the others come to the front, another is from the eighteens spot and one from the seventeens. Some kid from the fourteen-year-old section makes his way to the front. Another sturdy kid walks up from the eighteen zone.

"This is only five, there were six hands, young man please come to the stage," Giovanni says sternly.

A hooded figure walk out from the seventeen-year-old section. A long staff in his hand and the good of his cloak pulled over his eyes. He must be able to see through it cause he navigates himself to the stage with ease.

The staff makes a solid _thunk_ each time it hits the ground. Being the son of a stone mason I can tell that there is some type of metal caping the bottom cause its no type of wood I know of.

"Please pull your hood down so we can see your face," Giovanni instructs. Erno hesitates as he reaches up to throw his hood back. He doesn't look like I expected, his hair is blond and the ends of the straight strands touch his earlobes. His eyes are a deep blue and they brag of the evil lurking inside him. A thin white scar runs down the side of his face to the corner of his mouth. A second jagged scar crosses it, stretching from his jaw bone to the corner of his eye. The diamond blade sparkles in the sunlight.

My stomach lurches, he managed to make it to the volunteers, if we vote on who goes in, there is no way I'm making it. I set my face and do not look at Erno.

"Again we meet," Erno says after taking his place next to me. He's tall and stands even with me. His voice is deeper than I expected and he speaks with a strange accent, its not Capitol, but something more ancient. I ignore his comment.

"There is no need to be scared, we both know I will go in, so you don't have to worry about dying," he laughs at the end of it. I grit my teeth, he wants me to get mad at him, and he's achieving that goal.

"Fine, I shan't speak any longer," he tells me. _Shan't who uses the word shan't any more._

"Here we have," Giovanni gestures to me and I realize that while Erno was talking to me Giovanni was getting everyone's name.

"Ethan," I spit out.

"Erno Vict," Enro says calmly before Giovanni has a chance to say any more.

"And Erno," Giovanni says magnificently. "We will begin like before, who wants to go to the Hunger Games,"

"It would please me greatly to support my District in the contest," Erno says.

"I'm going in," I say, I don't want to loose my chance because of Erno.

Two of the others are disqualified when they stammer over the words.

"Now, we have four, lets go right into a tournament," he divides the four of us into pairs, I'm not against Erno. "You will fight against each other but do kill anyone, the looser will be the one that falls to his wounds first, or fleas," he says. Then almost as an after though "Oh, and you may use whatever weapon you have with you at this moment," he announces. I glance down at my suit, its not the ideal fighting uniform, but I guess it will do, Erno has his staff and he flashes a demonic grin across his face in my direction.

"Remember you may wound, but do not kill," Giovanni tells us. I look at the stage, it was built large enough for our numberless Victors, so we have a fair amount of room to fight in. The victors jump from their seats and take their chairs to clear a more suitable space to fight.

"Begin!" Giovanni shouts without warning. My eighteen-year-old foe lurches at me and I grab his wrist, working with my instincts. I twist it violently and it breaks. He lets out a single cry of pain and comes at me with his leg. I miss his foot and he kicks at me again, I back away and pat down my clothes for a weapon of some sort, I come up empty handed.

I duck the kids next kick and catch it when I jump up. He looses his balance and his head knocks against the ground with a loud thump. I'm amazed when he gets back up from the floor, blood trickling from the back of his head to drip onto the black platform.

Someone screams and I look to see Erno smashing his opponents arm with the but if his staff. He got the fifteen year old kid, with a single fluid motion Erno has the tip of his blade to the kids throat. I see this all in a glance and I dive right back into the fight.

I was never one to give up, I will fight to the death, but I would rather get to the games before that has to happen. I land a solid kick to his stomach and he falls back to the ground. I leap on him and grab his throat, blocking the air from reaching his lungs.

"Enough," Giovanni says. I relaxed my grip and he gulps down air and rolls over, away from me. He vomits over the edge and the vile stuff splatters on the ground. I feel a burst of glee at the pain I cause. It's been so long since I've had the chance to hurt someone openly.

Erno is standing silently, his hood back over his face. A drop of blood is at the tip of the staff.

"Now, you two will fight just as before, no weapons this time Erno," as if reacting to a signal he kick the bottom of the staff off the ground and catches the middle of it, he hands it to Galagix who is suddenly behind him.

"Ready, fight," Giovanni says as if he were starting the Games itself. Galagix holds Erno's shoulder back as I charge him. Galagix is whispering into his ear quickly. I put on an extra burst of speed and Galagix pushes Erno forward lightly. We collide, my speed pushes Erno to the ground, but he rolls expertly up back to his feet. I punch him, my fist colliding solidly with his chest. I look at his mouth as it curls upward into a smile.

He pushes me back forcefully, then reaches into an inner pocket of his robe. I kick at the hand as it comes out from inside his clock, he moves it out of the way and reaches in with his other hand.

With both hands curled into fists Erno punches at me. He doesn't need any strategy, I can feel the force he's putting into his muscles. I back away then realize an instant later that this was what he wanted me to do.

Erno pulls both of his hands up to his lips and combines the two. I hear a faint spark, then another. Erno blows into his hands and smoke pours from his fingers. He stows the object in his left hand back into one of his inner pockets, then looks at me, smoke curling up from his fingers.

He raises a hand as if to throw something at me. I duck and jolt forward. Erno maintains a firm grip on the thing in his hand. I regain my feet and charge him again. He lashes out at me and I see the red fire in his clenched fist.

I dodge just in time, his fist whizzing over my head. Erno has an evil grin on his face and he opens his hand. Sitting on his palm is a burning mass of kindling. He reaches out as if to slap me with his flaming hand. I duck and then realize that I fell into his trap again. He releases the burning wood onto my back.

The fire burns my skin even though it is protected by my shirt. I roll, momentarily pressing the fire deeper into my back. When I regain my feet I brush the remaining fire form my back and look at Erno with newfound hatred.

Erno lashes out at me and I reach for his throat. He hits my chest with enough force to knock the breath from me. My hand tightens around his neck, squeezing as hard as I can.

"Enough," Giovanni says. "Erno, you are disqualified for using a weapon," Erno glares at him, then at Galagix, Galagix shrugs his shoulders.

"What weapon did I use?" Erno asks innocently.

"Fire is considered a weapon," Giovanni informs him.

"I was not aware of this fact, maybe we could do a rematch," he replies.

"No, Erno you are disqualified, Ethan receives the spot as Tribute, now if you please Mr. Vict please return to the crowd," Giovanni tells him firmly. Erno looks out at the population of District Two.

Erno walks down off the stage, he pulls his hood back up over his face and walks down the empty path find a spot back in the seventeens.

"Erno, you left this," Galagix yells at him. He throws the staff like a spear. A gunshot sounds through the air and Galagix suddenly has a mess of red on his already red suit. He doesn't even wince.

The flying spear flys right at Erno's back, who spins and catches the staff with his left hand, then slams it on the ground. I glance at Galagix, expecting him to be on the ground. Instead I'm befuddled to see him wipe the blood off his chest and flick little red droplets to the ground.

"Please continue," he says to the stunned Giovanni.

"Oh, yes, here we have the male tribute from District Two and the female tribute," he gestures to me and then to the girl that I somehow missed during the fights.

"Now shake hands," he commands us. I didn't realize I got blood on my hands during the fight but I see it shining wetly on my palm as I stride over to the girl and shake her hand.

My mind is full of anger at Erno, but I push that aside and embrace the feeling of euphoria that I have archived my life long goal. I'm in the Hunger Games.

* * *

**Sorry if this chapter isn't what you expected, its nice and longs but its probably riddled with errors. Be patient with me, I rushed the last part because I got a wonderful stroke of inspiration.**

**thanks for all the tributes guys, I am filled all the way to District Four, I do need outer district tributes just a reminder.**

**I put the little fight scene in at the end because it seemed like a may the careers would choose who would go to the games, so if you didn't like it sorry. **

**Erno was mine and so was Galagix. I think that's all, so submit some tributes to the outer districts and I'll work on writing.**

**until next time- **

**Ares the Gamemaker**


	6. District Three Reaping

**Hello, this is a rather quick update I'm proud for getting it done so fast.**

**Nester Dormo was given to me by Hoprocker and Pixel was given to me by katsparkle13. **

* * *

_"In the rain, the pavement shines like silver. All the lights are misty in the river,"_

—Eponine, On my Own.

**District Three **

* * *

Nester Dormo's POV

* * *

I watch a small spider, spinning its web a few feet above my head. I feel calm, something I haven't felt like in a while. I hear stomping in the halls and then screams. I don't worry, it's probably someone being punished for mischief.

"You know you can't live like this much longer," Jonah tells me.

"I know," I reply.

"You should have saved me," he tells me.

"It wasn't my fault," I tell him in the most level voice I can manage.

"You should have talked me out of it," he yells at me in a harsh voice.

"Normo, get up! The Reapings' in ten minutes," Mrs. Harshe yells at me, pounding on the three foot tall door that leads to my den.

"You can't keep living like this," Jonah tells me again.

"I know," I shout at him. "Just leave me,"

"Quit shouting at me Normo," Mrs. Harshe yells at me. "Get out and get some nice clothes on, we leave in five minutes," she tells me. I hear her feet walk down the hallway, her heels clacking on the wooden floor.

I sit up and look at the dim little storage closet that I made into a room. Stretching my stiff limbs I reach over and open my small cupboard and find my best clothes.

I wrap the dirty white scarf around my neck and have a momentary surge of panic when the fabric unexpectedly tightens, then the moment passes. I slip on my best pants and my ratty jacket. I open my door and duck through the small entrance.

I walk down the hall, I put on a small smile. Jonah's gone, he's not here to remind me anymore.

Quella passes me, not looking back. I see Mrs. Harshe gathering all the orphans together as we get ready for the reaping. She opens the front door and most of the children follow her out into the rain. I don't follow.

"You might as well go," Jonah tells me. "She'll yell at you anyway,"

"Nester!" Mrs. Harshe yells at me.

"Told ya so, almost like that day…" he fades off and I rush out the door before he can say more. The rain hits me like a fire hose, dousing the white scarf around my neck and making it weigh about twenty pounds heavier. My jacket does little to keep out the chill. Most of the other kids are shivering with their arms clenched around themselves to preserve warmth. The black clouds covering the sky block out any sunlight, only street lights give illumination to glum day ahead of us.

"Serves you right, Nester, you didn't even try to help me," Jonah spits at me. I try my best to ignore his words, but they strike me down to the bone. "Enough about me, lets talk about you. It's another reaping, we both know someone will freak and volunteer, and then you'll come back to the orphanage until you grow up," he sums up.

I run ahead, my ragged shoes splashing in the mud.

"You can't run from me forever Nester," he calls at me as I push my way through the orphans. "I will always be here with you," I don't look at him, it brings back painful memories. I push a kid, about seven, and he falls to the ground. I immediately feel bad and reach my hand down to help him to his feet.

"Sorry about that," I tell him. A flash of recognition runs through his face.

"Y- y- your the sleep kid," he stutters. Yes the infamous sleep kid they call me. I drop my smile, even when I try to be kind I'm always rejected. I let go of the kids hand and walk ahead of the crowd behind me. As I move through them I hear murmurs of my name and fingers pointing.

I get to the district square before anyone else from the orphanage and get myself checked in.

"Here we go again," Jonah says behind me.

* * *

Pixel Calliope's POV

* * *

The rain is falling softly around us as we walk through the woods. We left the fence behind a while ago. I'm still not sure why we come out here, none of us can hunt and only Mac knows about edible plants, and even his knowledge is small.

Yet we still come out here.

Maybe I come out here to vent my feelings about the Capitol, I'm not sure myself. The falling rain soothes my anger, I've always liked the rain. We reach the river and the clouds covering the sky block out all sunlight, of course there wouldn't be any sun to light the day anyway, it was six o'clock when we left the district boundaries. All three of us cary flashlights.

During the uprising the peacekeepers destroyed many shops, we found about five flashlights that we use during the night and rainy days like these. Many would think that we, being the technology district, would have more technological advancements than the rest, but in fact just getting batteries for the flashlights is a real pain.

A rush of water begins to reach my ears. I snap myself out of my blissful trance and to the world around me. The river is just up ahead. We round a grove of trees and see the ford in the river where we normally cross.

The hike we take once a week is a normally brisk walk, but we've taken it slow today.

"Are we still going?" Luna asks me uncertainly. I consider her question, the river is flowing faster than I would like it, and we are about thirty minutes from the fence.

"Lets keep going," I say.

"We could be late for the reaping," Mac tells me. I turn around and look into his brown eyes. I want to scold him but he's been my best friend for years, not to mention my boyfriend.

"If we're late they will come to our houses, but what if we aren't there?" I ask him.

"Then they kill our families and we return, then we die," he replies simply.

"Luna, what time is it?" I ask. She's the richest of our group and has the only watch. She shines her flashlight onto the face.

"Six forty-three," she tells me.

"We have two hours and seventeen minutes left, lets go for it," I say. I walk to the ford in the river and pull my shoes off, I don't want to soak my good shoes. There is less of a canopy above the river and the moving water has circular ripples appearing endlessly on its surface.

I pull of my socks and put my foot in the shallow water. The frigid water is shocking at first but my foot becomes numb quickly. I hold my flashlight on the water ahead of me, the beam reflecting off the rippling surface. I would pull my knife out but I'm busy holding my shoes and socks.

I hear splashing behind me and then a second set of splashing and I know Mac and Luna have followed. The ford is about ten feet long and I detest every step of the journey. I reach the sandy shore and the gritty stuff sticks to my feet. I seek out the pine needles and wipe my feet on the prickly ground.

After my feet are fairly dry I slip my socks on and then put my shoes over them. Mac and Luna are right behind me. I feel a but of unease, I've been to this side of the river dozens of time, but I know the other side better than this one.

Mac must see my weariness. "Do you still want to go?" He asks me. I set my mind, I'm not backing out now, ever since we did this a few months ago I've wanted to go again.

"Yes, I need to see it again," I say. "Are we ready?" I ask, trying to put my commanding persona back into effect. Mac pulls out a knife and Luna pulls her bow off her shoulder. I pull out a knife also, holding my flashlight in one hand, and the weapon in the other.

"Let go," Mac says with enthusiasm. I move briskly through the trees. The former ease of this trip is dispelled instantly. We need to be alert. A bark sounds through the air, but I'm not worried they won't come after three people roaming through the woods with knives.

After jogging for thirty minutes I slow my pace. I glance over my shoulder and see Mac and Luna close behind. Even though I've only been here once I feel like I know this place by heart.

The rain has started to pour and the incline has gotten steeper.

"Your sure its there?" Luna asks.

"Right over that ledge," I say pointing my knife at the climax of the incline, its about ten feet away from our current location. We could cross it in a matter of seconds, but we take it slow, who knows what could be on the other side.

We reach the top of the small hill and look, for the second time at the ten foot high silver fence spanning across a large rocky landscape. A deep ravine separates us from the rocky section and the fine misty rain slightly obscures our view.

"Do you really think it could be?" Mac says letting the question hang.

"I can't think of anything else it could be," I reply my voice soft, even though if there were people there they couldn't possibly hear us. A faint light shines through the night, possibly from a street light.

"I do believe that that is a street light," I say firmly, speaking my thoughts.

"But that's not from our District," Luna says.

"That's my hypothesis too," I say.

"You mean, you think we found another District?" Mac asks in disbelief.

"No, no I think we found a village with fences surrounding it," I say sarcastically. He smiles with obvious amusement, and shakes his head.

"That's why I like you," he mutters to himself. I smile, pleased with myself.

"Luna what time is it," he asks.

"Seven fifteen," she replies.

"We should go," Mac tells me. My heart, no my soul, fills with longing as they pull me away from the District that I found. I fight them for three minutes before letting them dragging my off.

"We need to get going, my mom will kill me if I'm not home early today," Luna says.

"Fine, lets go," I say promising myself that I will come back and find a way to cross the ravine and then bring my friends later. I take the lead again and we continue our jog back to the starting point. The rain starts to pour harder and by the time we reach the ford my flashlight catches each drop of water and makes it difficult to see more than ten feet ahead of me.

I slide my shoes and socks off and then sheath my knife. I cross the underwater path and almost loose my balance due to the sudden influx of water. The pounding rain is the only thing I can hear.

We put our shoes and socks back on and make our way back to the fence. The ground has become muddy and walking is becoming treacherous. I hide behind a tree when I see the silver fence.

"It's clear," Mac tells me. I walk out form behind my hiding place and approach the fence. I scale a nearby tree and unwind the rope I placed earlier to help us get over the charged fence. The rope barely touches the ground. I stash my knife in a large box near the uncoiled rope.

The box is hidden inside the tree, it took us quite a while to hollow out the interior of the tree big enough to fit the knives and the bow. I watch my friends descend the rope, guarding them with Luna's bow. When they reach the ground I place Luna's bow in the box and wind the rope, knotting it to keep it in place.

I edge out on the rope limb, getting maybe a foot higher. My friends hold their arms up to me, like a father to his child. I hesitate for a second before jumping into their open arms.

They stumble as they try to catch my weight, and I end up catching myself. Every time we take an excursion into the woods I jump from the tree. I'm by far the lightest at one hundred-twenty pounds and no one else wants to jump into the arms of the others.

Back inside the fence it feels like a weight has been lifted off my chest. We walk briskly down the street and to our separate homes.

"See ya at the Reaping," I call after them.

"See ya Pixel," Mac and Luna say. I open the door to my house and slide my mud stained shoes off and leave them by the front door. I creep through the silent house.

I pass my dads slightly open door and see his lonely figure hidden under the covers. I smile, even though our lives are horrible. I can't help but feel sorry for him. He works so hard to keep the both of us alive, yet we still live in a slum.

He suggested that I learn to hunt, but I know that I couldn't hunt, even if my life depended on it, which it very well might. I have to focus very hard to remove the last thought from my mind, the Hunger Games are not an option.

Of course I take tesserae for both of us but that can only go so far. I enter my bedroom, listening to the rain thumping off the roof. I fill a tub with water and shed my dirty clothes. My bath is cold and very short, but I get clean nonetheless.

I find the reaping outfit that my dad asked me to wear and put it on. The dress is the color of the sky, when its not raining of course.

I hear my dads footfalls in the hallway and he pushes open my door. He blinks the sleep from his eyes when he looks at me.

"You look amazing," he tells me, his voice full of love and affection.

"Thank you," I tell him sweetly.

"Could you put your hair into a bun, you'd look just like your mother," I smile and comply. He wipes tears from him eyes. "I'm sorry, you shouldn't see me like this," he says putting up a hand.

I suppress a laugh, his grey hair is disheveled and his pajamas are dotted with teddy bears. My dad smiles, he must know what I'm thinking.

"You just look so much like your mother, the first time I met her," he tells me, hiding a smile of his own.

"Dad, you need to get ready, the Reaping is in an hour and I want to be early. He smiles and leaves. I follow him out the doorway and watch him enter his bedroom.

I find myself some bread to snack on while I wait for my dad to get ready. He enters the kitchen and I give him some of my bread.

"Thanks," he tells me then follows me out the door. The rain has done nothing but gotten worse. I still feel my enthusiasm with the downfall of moisture but the prospect of watching yet another Reaping drives it out of me.

We walk down the cobblestone path leading to the district square. The periodic street lights shine dimly off the wet stones. By the time we reach the district square the rain has mellowed out and is falling at a drizzle.

We check in and I find my friends in the sixteen year old section. We don't talk, we usually get in trouble if we start talking. I breath, taking in a bit of water as I do so, and concentrate my thoughts on non-rebellious subjects, I look to the stage and the Reaping begins.

* * *

Nester Dormo's POV

* * *

I look at my feet, fighting off the wave of sleepiness that suddenly assaults me. This is not the time for that to happen. I manage to fend it off for now. Little pools of water have formed in the crevices in the stone and small ripples cover the surfaces as the rain continues to fall.

The mayor begins the dull Treaty of Treason and I ignore it, thinking about how I will go through the coming events. He finishes the Treaty and sits down. Libra Lumiere walks to the mic. She has a slightly depressed face, as if she doesn't enjoy escorting for us. Personally I wouldn't care if we didn't have an escort, that would mean no Hunger Games.

"Lets start the reaping shall we," she says after a small introduction. "Boys, you may volunteer now," she tells us, she must be mildly expecting a wave of hands, but no one raises them.

"You may begin now," she says, as if not sure if we heard her or not. No one responds. A single agonizing minute passes without a sound except for the pounding rain.

Another minute passes without a word being said. A sudden gust of wind blows the falling rain into our faces and causes me to squint my eyes in order to keep on seeing.

A flash of lightning illuminates the sky and the crashing boom resonates. In the after flash there appears to be the silhouette of a young kid standing in the clouds.

Another minute passes and another bolt of lightning illuminates the sky and I clearly see Jonah's form in the sky. He whispers something to me, something only I can hear.

"Volunteer," he whispers "Volunteer. Your life has no purpose, you can save someone else, volunteer," his words strike me to the bone but he doesn't stop. "No one will miss you, no one will care if you die, you have nothing to live for," his voice grows louder until it raises to a shout accompanied with the booming of lightning. "You can't leave them alone like you left me!" He thunders.

I don't realize my hand is in the air until I'm shouting the words.

"I volunteer!" The district square is riddled with gasps as I put my hand in the air.

"Finally," Libra says with wind slapping her hair around her face. "Don't be shy, come to the stage," she tells me. With numb feet I enter the walkway and walk down it with hundreds of pairs of eyes trailing my every move. I manage to make it to the stage before the first wave of sleepiness strikes me.

"What is your name," she asks me, I have to concentrate to hear her words and to keep myself awake.

"Nester Dormo." I say firmly.

"Great now we will continue-" she's cut off by screams from the congregation as I succumb to the endless, pounding waves of sleep. Blackness encroaches my vision and I distantly feel my body hit the stage, then I loose consciousness.

* * *

Pixel Calliope's POV

* * *

The boy about my age, Nester Dormo, hits the stage and a bolt of lightning flashes through the sky, a deafening rumble sounding as he hits.

_"This is why we fight,"_ it's my dads voice, but not from this time. _"That little girl just died for the games,"_ it's the scene when Rue died and Katniss buried her with flowers. _"The Capitol is sick and cruel, this needs to stop,"_ his voice continues.

"We'll, that was unexpected," Libra says into the microphone. I push back a sudden surge of furry, this boy just volunteered for your games, and all you do is call it unexpected! Somewhere in the back of my head, my subconscious is trying to make me angry.

"Moving on now," she says, leaving Nester on the ground. My fathers voice comes again.

_"The Capitol must be stopped, they use fear to keep us in check, we need to make them fear us,"_ the scene of Cato killing Katniss and Peeta flashes across my vision. _"No don't cheer, not for him,"_ Cato giving his speech to the District during the victory tour.

I barely hear our escort open the volunteering session. My eyes are pounding as my dad keeps talking to me in my mind. Despite the chill of the falling rain I can feel the fire that my father has tried so hard to subdue since the seventy-fourth Hunger Games, the fire of rebellion. The flame warms my very soul and my thoughts are consumed like paper in the unquenchable fire that my rebellious side is very carefully tending.

Three minutes pass with the wind flaring and calming. I turn around to look at the square standing uncomfortably. At the edge of the twelve year old section I see a girl crying hysterically.

_"This needs to stop,"_ my fathers voice tells me. I can see a nearby peacekeeper becoming annoyed very quickly. The girl continues to bawl. My fathers voice is of the past, back when he was outspoken like me.

"Just a reminder," Libra says into the microphone, I struggle to hear over the pounding rain. "In five more minutes, if no girl steps forward to volunteer, after this quell, next years Hunger Games will be composed of the girls from three," she says. She's about to say more but my ear catches a sound behind me.

I turn around and see the annoyed peacekeeper smashing his gun into the side of the fallen girl.

My hand is in the air faster than I can think, this is bad, but I don't know why I'm volunteering for it.

"We have a volunteer," Libra says, just a little shocked, "come up here please," she tells me. I need a forceful shove from behind to get me moving. My mind is racing, wondering what I got myself into just by letting my anger take control. I scald myself as I walk to the stage.

I was the one that put my fathers voice into my head. I was just trying to feel a stronger connection with him, and unintentionally whipped myself into anger. The stairs are slick its the falling water and small waterfalls are spilling over my feet, getting my blue dress wet and running over my black boots.

"What is your name," Libra asks me, trying to maintain enthusiasm even though she is obviously not having a good time in the rain. I look at the boy laying on the ground and my self inflicted hate bubbles again and I very nearly snarl my response.

"Pixel Calliope,"

"Great, now I don't think you can easily shake his hand with him passed out on the ground," Libra chuckles at her own joke and no one in District Three laughs. "Ok, never mind, lets just end so no one has to stand in this rain anymore," she says. "District Three your tributes," she gestures at Nester, laying unconscious on the floor, and me thinking about how much my life sucked before, and how its about to get a lot worse.

A few thoughts run through my mind as I stand in front of the population of District Three while Libra makes her concluding speech. I think mainly about my friends, and how different life will be without me.

For one thing, there won't be anymore excursions into the woods, they can't get the rope down and neither of them can catch the other by themselves. My dads life will be ruined, I was the only thing keeping him from falling apart, now I'm gone. I feel a pang of disappointment, I remember clearly this morning, seeing the fence of what we presumed to be another district, I'll never figure out what district that was and I'll never be able to be safe again.

_"You asked for this,"_ my fathers voice tells me. Like before, I'm just replaying his words to whip my mind into action. I stand stiffly as Libra finishes and I am escorted into the Justice Building, Nester's limp body is picked up be a peacekeeper and dragged into the justice building behind me. One last thought courses through my mind.

I will be dead before the month is out.

* * *

**Hey, hoped you liked the chapter, I'm doing fairly good on tributes and I'm almost there, keep submitting. **

**I do hope there are less grammatical errors in this chapter than the last (I think I got them all)**

**Before you guys ask if Nester is insane I will tell you that he is ****_not _****loopy he just has a tough life.**

**anyway thanks for reading, I hope to get more tributes soon and another chapter.**


	7. District Four Reaping

**Sorry for the long update, I wish I could say I've spent the last moth working on this but sadly some stuff came up.**

**I really do hope that this is a good chapter. I need a male tribute for District Five before I can continue writing.**

**A thanks to Third-Degree-Kisses for Sandy Jack and Dextram Dei for Nick Jenkins.**

* * *

_"Like the waves crash on the sand," _

_— The Poor, At the End of the Day_

**District Four:**

* * *

Nick Jenkins POV

* * *

I look around me, thinking about how bad my life is. I hold my breath and watch the fish fluttering around me like birds. Just yesterday I lost my girlfriend when she found out I was training for the games.

I'm not planning on going career and lunging into the games, but almost my whole family has gone in, so I'm sure to be next. District Four isn't like the other districts, were something… in between.

We aren't like the careers, they get joy in killing and most of us don't. But we usually get into the career group so we have quite a few victors, just because we're smart enough to be prepared. I get out of the water and grab my trident, I've never been very good with it but I'm trying to get better.

I lift my net too and hurl it into the water, the weighted net sinks to the bottom of the shallow part of the ocean. I dive back into the water, feeling the water push against my eyeballs. I would wear goggles but they make you look like some sort of alien, and we can't afford the aqua-contacts.

I dive down to the net and grab the four weighted balls and pull them together. I push up off the sand and lug the net of fish. The fish don't hinder me while in the water, they're swimming upwards with me. I burst above the water and drag the fish onto the shore.

I caught a meager eleven fish, just about enough to feed my family after giving eighty percent to the Capitol. I pull my muscle shirt over my head and slide my sweats on. I lift my bag of still struggling fish over my shoulder and make my way towards town.

I arrive at the town square, looking at the stage they have set up for the Reapings at ten. I shake my head and am confronted by a peacekeeper.

"I'm gonna need nine of those fish young man," he says. I glance past his shoulder and see another peacekeeper training his gun on my forehead. I let out a sigh and pull the net off my shoulder. The fish have gotten stiff and I pull nine of them out, leaving me with two left.

The man deposits the fish in a large cooler as I hand them to him. He shoos me away and I grudgingly leave. I walk down a few streets and find my house. I climb up a rope later that leads to my front porch.

I slam open my front door and carry my lightened fishing net over my shoulder. My fathers standing at the counter of our kitchen, next to the window that gives us a view of the vast blue ocean.

"Only two?" My dad asks me.

"Peacekeepers got nine of 'em," I tell him sadly. We don't always give up our fish, we sneak a bit past whenever we can. Of course we could get into lots of trouble if we get caught.

"Well I'll see what I can make for us," he says. "Now go get ready,"

"Dad, the Reaping isn't for another hour!" I tell him.

"I understand that," he tells me simply.

"Then you realize that I'll be wearing it for an hour and a half," I tell him.

"Actually you'll probably only wear it for twenty minutes, by the time your done complaining and actually get your outfit on," he tells me keenly. I smile, he loves to outsmart me and I can't help smiling at the fun we have.

"Fine I'll get dressed," I say laughing. I retreat to my room and find the reaping suit that's been set out for me. It's a nice light blue tee with dark silky blue sweat pants.

I walk back into the kitchen and see that my two brothers are eagerly sitting at the table. My father has made breakfast sushi and has set aside a bowl of iced shrimp.

With fish being out major industry, its difficult to make more than a few breakfast foods. The four of us silently eat our food, then take our plates and forks to the sink.

My dad hands each of us a traditional fish shaped loaf of bread, its supposed to bring us luck as we eat it on the way to the district square. The loaf he hands me is about the size of my hand and very easy to hold.

I walk out onto the front porch and stash the green tinted loaf in my large pockets, then I put my foot onto the first rung of the rope latter. The rope doesn't swing because of the extra weight that my little brothers are putting on it. I feel my dad begin to descend when I'm about halfway down.

My feet land on the stone road softly and my little brothers begin to walk to the square. They have happy little grins on their faces. They aren't old enough to understand the games fully, they have the gist of it but they don't see it as the horrible punishment it is.

My younger brother has already started to train, he caught me doing it a month or so ago, but he didn't realize it was for my own protection. I shake my head at the thought of him volunteering for the Hunger Games. Fortunately for him, he's only eleven and he can't make the mistake of volunteering for the games, not yet at least.

The district square gates come into view, I've only ever seen gates in District Four when they show the Reapings on television. The peacekeepers line the roofs, machine guns trained on us.

I check in and walk across the sandy stones. The district square has been covered in sand to represent our district, and its part of the festivities of the Hunger Games. It's not a lot of sand, I can still see the road.

I walk up behind Thadeus and tap his shoulder. He turns that direction and sees no one there. I walk up beside him and tap the close shoulder. He spins around with a look of befuddlement on his face.

"Gotcha," I say smiling. It's an old joke and not very funny, but it helps lighten our moods for what's about to happen. He smiles trying to dispel the uncomfortable feeling of the reaping also.

"You ready?" He asks me seriously. I wipe the grin off my face.

"As ready as anyone could be," I tell him, a troubling thought enters my mind but I push it away quickly. I cast a quick glance at the stage, its been divided into two different sections, one with many chairs for the past victors and the other side with three chairs, for the mayor, his wife and Tiber Tide, the escort.

I try to catch Finnicks eye and seem to do so, for half a second but he's smiling and waving at everyone so its impossible to know if he actually saw me.

"Nick... Nick, anyone home?" Thadeus asks, waving a hand in front of my eyes. I snap out of my trance and shake my head.

"Yeah, I'm here," I reply quickly.

"Your not thinking about volunteering, are you?" He asks me seriously. My answer is in my mouth before he finishes his question, but my mind has a different answer.

"No, no!" I reply, trying to sound shocked at the idea. "Not right away at least," I mutter the last part.

"Nick that's insanity!" He tells me bluntly.

"Look, Thadeus, I know its not the smartest idea out there, but would you rather see a thirteen-year-old go to the arena? I've trained, I can fight. I can win."

"Nick, are you listening to yourself? What your proposing is madness. What's the chance of someone volunteering at thirteen?"

"I almost did," I say quietly as people start giving us weird looks.

"Yeah, and I had to stop you," he reminds me.

"Finnick would tell me-" I'm interrupted by Thadeus's outburst.

"Finnick murdered innocent kids," he nearly yells at me. The once noisy square goes dead quiet after this pronouncement. Thadeus looks embarrassed but continues ranting about Fininck. "Nick, this is what we hate, this is what we despise," he says quietly now, trying to keep the rest of the district out of our private conversation. "We aren't training to become killers, we're training to survive if we somehow get chosen, not volunteer,"

"But Finnick has done some good things," I try to argue back.

"I don't care what good things Finnick has done, I don't care how much you look up to him, all I care about is you not becoming a killer like the others,"

"Thadeus, I know what I'm doing," I tell him harsher than I mean to.

"No, Nick, I don't think you do," he tells me shaking his head. I'm becoming angry quickly, something that I don't normally do.

"Thadeus, don't tell me what to do, I'm volunteering to save the district, not for myself,"

"Nick, don't do this," he tells me softly. "I don't want to see you kill, but if you do volunteer, I will not help you," he finishes and pushes his way through the crowded section and away from me.

"You don't understand," I whisper to myself, "You just don't understand,"

* * *

Sandy Jack's POV

* * *

The fire of anger consumes my stomach, coursing through my veins like lava. It's not fair. It's never fair. She was always the favorite, never me. I slam the door to my bedroom with as much force as I can muster and flop down on my bed.

I clench my teeth and breath deeply. In. Out. In. Out.

I push myself off the bed and sulk over to my small aquarium. _Pitch's is bigger,_ I think to myself. This thought sends another wave of fire through my veins. I just barely stop myself from sending the glass structure to the ground, instead I slam both my fists against the desk its perched on causing the colorful fish inside to scuttle around in fright.

I smile, but it quickly disappears. I take a deep, calming breath, then reach into the drawer on my desk. My fingers find the hilt of the heavy dagger and draw it from the inside of the desk. I look at its dull blade and its splotched surface. It used to be my sisters first knife.

I take a step and hurl it into the wall. I run after it and wrench the blade from the surface. I lash out with my foot and send a lamp tumbling to the floor, the bulb shatters with an impressive spray of glass. I take a single long stride and stab my dagger into one of my bedposts.

I'm breathing heavily now and I'm still being fueled with anger. I spin and send the dagger into my door, sinking it up to the hilt. I take a calming breath and pull the knife out of the door just above the handle. I walk back to my desk and softly replace the dagger next to the mason stone.

I'm just closing the drawer when my door bursts open and my eighteen-year-old sister walks in. She looks just like me, just older. Her strawberry colored hair hangs at the small of her back in a long braid.

"What do you think your doing?" She asks me in a commanding voice stressing the syllables in her phony Capitol accent. I lose it and my hand returns to the desk drawer faster than I can think.

I clutch the knife and slash at my sister with anger fueling my strokes. She takes a step backwards and I barely miss her. I advance and she ducks my next slash. She punches my arm with a powerful stroke and my hold loosens on the dagger but I manage to keep hold of it. I become clumsy when I'm angry.

Her other fist strikes my gut and I keel over, clutching my stomach and the knife skitters across the floor. Pitch calmly grabs the knife, stooping to pick it up.

I kick at her but she blocks the blow. She stands back up, holding the knife loosely in her left hand. I roll backwards and regain my feet, my stomach lurching as I do so.

"Are you really going to fight me?" She asks me using her normal voice. "I disarmed you without a weapon and you didn't get as much as a scratch on me,"

I manage to get one good punch in before she presses the knife against my throat and we fall to the floor. I let out a gasp as the air leaves my lungs and she pins me down. To my satisfaction she spits blood from her mouth.

"If we were in the games, you'd be dead in a heartbeat," Pitch says calmly pressing the flat of the knife deeper against my jugular. For the second time, my door bursts open and my mother walks in. I catch a glimpse of the look of fury on her face and shrink back.

"Pitch, get off of her," my mom yells fiercely. Pitch pushes the knife deeper into my neck before pushing herself off me. She drops the knife carelessly near my leg. I push myself up and lift the knife from the floor. I glare at Pitch and she returns the look.

"It's Reaping Day, and I don't care what's going on. Sand, you only have ,like, three more hours with her, can you stop trying to kill her until she gets back," my mom lectures me. I cast my eyes downward trying to look guilty so she'll stop bugging me.

"And you, Pitch," she says pointing a finger at my older sister, "what do you think your doing? You could have killed her!" She is yelling now.

"I'm sorry mom, but she attacked me first," Pitch starts to complain.

"I. Do. Not. Care," my mom fumes, enunciating each word. "One more fight between the two of you, and neither of you will continue to live here. You'll be out in the street," she says strictly. That seems a little harsh but I don't doubt her, my mom doesn't back down after issuing a punishment. At least not right off. And besides if I had to live with someone like me I would have kicked me out years ago.

At that moment I decide that she will not overshadow me ever again. I will volunteer for the Hunger Games, win and be better than Pitch ever was.

My mom interrupts my thought process, "Just get into your reaping clothes and come downstairs." She leaves, and Pitch walks out with a sullen look on her face. I smile, an evil grin, as my plan formulates in my mind. It's perfect, unstoppable.

I get my reaping outfit on. It's a deep red dress that stops at the knees, its sleeves are ruffled. I put my bracelet on and slide my silver necklace around my neck. I put my hair up into an elegant bun.

I open my door and make my way silently towards the stairs. I creep down them and peek over the railing and continue stepping down the staircase. I'm about five stairs from the ground when a powerful push comes from behind me and I fall.

My career training kicks in and I roll across the carpeted floor, messing up my hair slightly. I look up and see Pitch standing with a slight smile on her face.

"A little clumsy today aren't we?" She says in her silly Capitol accent. I regain my feet and am about to jump at her when she slips a knife from her sliver sleeve. She points it at me gracefully. It's not my knife, mine isn't that shiny. Pitch steps down the stairs pushing the knife closer to me.

"Mom, Pitch is trying to kill me," I yell childishly.

"Deal with it!" She yells from the kitchen. I sigh then begin to back away from the knife pointed at my chest.

She leaps at me and slashes out with the knife, I dodge and run to the front door, my heels making it a bit more challenging. I open the door and flee onto the street, not out of fear, just to get away from Pitch, I don't really like her.

The sun is hot and radiates unceasingly. I can feel my face already starting to burn. I decide to just skip breakfast, if my plan works I'll have plenty of food. I head to the district square, quite a long walk from my house but easily reachable since I'm in top shape.

I look back at my house, it sticks a full story above any of the surrounding buildings. I walk down the main streets towards the square. It takes me twenty minutes to reach the District Square.

The sand covering the stones slide under my heels and I check in. I walk down the aisle separating the boys from girls. As far as I know only districts one through four separate the boys and girls.

I find my spot among the many other fifteens and prepare myself for the volunteering that will soon take place. I distantly hear a pair of kids arguing but I zone it out, nothing can distract me.

I look up at the stage just as the mayor gets out of his small metal chair and walks to the microphone and begins reciting the Treaty of Treason.

* * *

Nick Jenkin's POV

* * *

I try to calm my breathing, I haven't fought with anyone for months.

The mayor gets out of his chair and begins the Treaty of Treason, "Long ago there was a place called North America..." I zone out the talk.

The rage is still in my stomach, Thadeus' accusations got to me, but he can't understand how much I look up to Finnick. I'm not trying to get into the games for fame and glory. I'm just trying to save my District.

I've taken to visiting the training centers and there aren't any people to volunteer this year. If I don't then someone else that isn't ready will, and then where will I be? I'll be ridden with guilt knowing I could have saved him.

The Treaty of Treason ends, I haven't been listening, and Tiber Tides steps up to the mic, ready for his turn.

"Greetings District Four!" He says with enthusiasm, I look up at the stage, disgusted with his look. He has blue stencils covering his skin, all of fish and tridents, and his hair is a dark, dark blue with green streaks running through part of it.

"The time has come for the Tributes of this years Hunger Games to be chosen, or should I say come forth," he laughs and gets a few chuckles from the adults surrounding the roped off areas. He looks back at the mayor, as if he isn't sure what to do next. The mayor says something and Tiber turns back to the mic.

"You all know the procedure so I now open District Four's volunteer session for the boys first," he says this and no one moves for a few seconds. I think back to my argument with Thadeus and begin to rethink what I said _'not right away at least,'_ I had told him.

The seconds pass into a minute, then two. I give myself until minute three, if no one volunteers then I will. Minute three comes and goes. Ten more seconds, I think to myself. They pass without any incident. _Stop being a fish and raise your hand now!_ I yell at myself in my head.

My hand slowly raises into the air, tentative at first and ending strong at the top. "I volunteer," I shout, making sure no one misses it. I lock eyes with Finnick Odair and he sits with his head cocked slightly to one side, not quite sure what to think of me. I push my way through the crowd and suddenly Thadeus is in front of me.

"Don't go," he tells me softly. "I don't want to loose you," he says.

"I'm sorry Thad, I need to," I reply softly. He lets me pass and turns his head to the ground.

I mount the stage and make my way to the microphone. Tiber shakes my hand and I grasp his hands unenthusiastically, they feel like cold fish.

"Would you give us your name?" He asks me tilting the microphone stand towards me.

"My name is Nick Jenkins," I say solidly.

"We are halfway there, now lets find out who our female girl will be," he says, "Girls, you can volunteer... Now!" He says with a flourish. I look to the girl section, mildly curious as to who my partner will be. Two almost identical girls raise their hands as he opens the session.

"Sandy I swear I will kill you if you keep your hand up!" The older of the two screams.

"Lets go to the film," Tiber says a little uncomfortably. The replay film is shown on the main screen and it turns out that the younger of the two sisters, I have deduced that they are sisters, no two people could look so much alike. "It is you," Tiber says triumphantly, pointing to the girl in the fifteens section. "Please come up and give us your name," he tells her.

The girl detaches herself from the throng of people and her sister bursts from the eighteens section and runs up behind her. There's a glint of silver in her hand and she grabs her sister from behind, putting the knife at her neck.

"Give me the spot or she dies," she hollers insanely at the peacekeepers surrounding her. "The spot is mine," she continues, advancing towards the stage.

A peacekeeper behind her pulls out a heavy, black gun with a cap on it. He removes the cap and I see two small prongs of silver. Without hesitation he pulls the trigger, a sharp buzzing fills the air and the two girls collapse.

The other peacekeepers separate the two and hold them apart. One administers the fifteen year old a drink and she coughs.

She pushes the guards away and makes the rest of the trip to the stage. Tiber tries to recapture the audiences attention.

"So what is your name?" He asks.

She coughs. "Sandy. Jack," she enunciates clearly.

"And what was that all about?" He asks, referring to the fight.

Sandy glances at her sister, who's just coming back to her feet, coughing. "She was going to volunteer, but the glory needs to be mine," she says stiffly as if just volunteering has won her the games.

"That's how it should be," Tiber says. The anthem begins to play and we shake hands. Her hand shakes slightly, but that might just be because she was recently shocked.

"The waves crash on the sand, but they must retreat and so must we, goodbye District Four," he says and pulls us back, into the justice building.

* * *

Sandy Jack's POV

* * *

The mayor ends the treaty of treason and Tiber takes his place. "Greetings District Four!" He says excitedly. "The time has come for the Tributes of this years Hunger Games to be chosen, or should I say come forth," he laughs and gets a few chuckles, he keeps grinning but turns towards the mayor.

He looks at the mayor, unsure of how to keep the show going. He mutters something and Tiber starts talking again.

"You all know the procedure so I now open District Four's volunteer session for the boys first," no one moves for three minutes, then a boy tentatively raises his hand.

"I volunteer," he shouts. He moves through the crowd and talks to someone for a few seconds before moving up to the stage. He announces his name in a clear voice after Tiber asks him what it is.

"My name is Nick Jenkins,"

"We are halfway there, now lets find out who our female girl will be," he says giddily. I ready my hand, tensing every muscle in my body as preparation for the next few seconds.

"Girls, you can volunteer..." I begin to raise my hand. "Now," my hand is in the air and something tells me so is Pitch's.

"Sandy I swear I will kill you if you keep your hand up!" Pitch screams from behind me. I keep my hand high in the air her screaming solidifying my will to volunteer.

"Lets go to the film," Tiber says. I eagerly gaze upon the screen, sure that I beat her too it. My hand raises a split second before Pitch's and I let out a sigh of relief. "It is you," Tiber points at me, "please come up and give us your name,"

I push my way from the crowd of people and I hear footsteps behind me, but I ignore them, just the peacekeepers coming to escort me to the stage. Someone grabs me by the neck then pushes something cold and hard against my neck.

I realize a moment to late that its Pitch, refusing to give into defeat. "Give me the spot or she dies," Pitch yells deranged. Peacekeepers run in around us. "The spot is mine," Pitch continues shouting triumphantly.

I get no warning, none at all. One moment I'm standing there hoping the peacekeepers will get her off me, the next a wave of electricity is passing through my body. I hit the ground with a painful smack. All my muscles tense with pain and electricity, then it all stops. The world goes black.

* * *

Something prods my lip, forcing my mouth open. Some sort of liquid enters my mouth and I throw my eyes open. Peacekeepers are standing all around me, one is holding my head up and pouring a liquid down my throat, I cough and splutter, then I see Pitch, unconscious and in the arms of a peacekeeper.

I push away the peacekeepers around me, and they back up, as if I were some sort of mutt. I must have passed out, but not for long that much I can tell. I compose myself and walk the remainder of the distance to the stage, the boy keeps looking at me, with an indifferent expression on his face.

"So, what is your name?" he asks me. I cough before answering.

"Sandy. Jack." I enunciate very clearly.

"And what was that all about?" He asks me.

"She was going to volunteer, but the glory needs to be mine," I say, not bothering to expound any, I'm still a little dazed from the electricity.

"That's how it should be," he tells me happily as the anthem begins to play. I reach my hand out to the boy, annoyed that my hand is shaking. He grasps it and we shake, once.

"The waves crash on the sand, but they must retreat and so must we, goodbye District Four," Tiber says. He gets a firm grip on my shoulder and pulls the two of us backwards, into the Justice Building.

* * *

**Just another reminder I need a male from District Five, if I don't get one soon, I'll have to make one, which I'd be fine with :)**


	8. District Five Reaping

**Ok sorry I took so long to update but were doing the end of course assessments in school now so I didn't have much time to write. I also got stuck in a good book called 'the allow of law'**

**A special thanks to I-am-Foxface for Laurel Sterling and Loverman22 for Borris Tapa.**

* * *

"When the gutters run with blood"

— Monsieur Thénardier, Dog eats Dog

**District Five:**

* * *

Laurel Sterling's POV

* * *

I'm ready, that's the first thing that pops into my head when I open my eyes. I am ready. I momentarily allow myself to return back to my dream, I was in the arena killing the career, the boy from District 1, I've always hated that district.

I let a smile of satisfaction slide over my face as I remember the image of his blood, nearly black in the dark light of the arena and flowing in a long stream. My arms were covered in the stuff. The moment passes and I slide over the side of my bed.

I stretch my arms and look at my small cheep watch. My eyes widen in surprise, I have less than forty minutes before I need to be down in the district square.

My mom walks through my door, presumably to come wake me up. "Ah, your up, the Reaping is in thirty-five minutes, get changed and get on down, and don't forget to keep it up, you've come to far to fail now," she reminds me for maybe the millionth time.

I smile sweetly, "of course mom, I won't forget," she smiles, not the warm loving smile most moms give, the dangerous and deadly smile of a victor after the final kill. This is the kind of smile I get from my mom, but I still love her, deep down at least.

I shoo her from my room and she leaves quickly. I open my dresser and find the light blue dress that we have designated to be today's reaping outfit. I slip on my nice shoes, the ones I'm only allowed to wear on Reaping Day. They sparkle slightly.

I check my reflection in the small bit of mirror I'm allowed to keep in my room, perfect. I leave my room and close the door softly behind me, I don't want to get in trouble with mom for slamming the door. When I enter the kitchen I see our special breakfast, it comprises of a loaf of hard bread and a bowl of homegrown strawberries.

My dad is nowhere to be seen, no doubt at work, that or drinking. Unlike the rest of the district he doesn't get off of work for the Reaping, in fact he has to start earlier than normal, and most often doesn't get home until much much later.

My other two sisters walk into the kitchen, their reaping dresses are gorgeous. Kiva is in a spectacular deep purple dress, her small necklace has a single plastic gem hanging from the bottom of the thread. Faye has her spring green dress from last year on, her red plastic gem hanging from a bracelet on her wrist.

My mom waves the two others over and they quickly come and sit at the table. None of us like having small meals, but dad doesn't get payed much by the Capitol for the work he does tirelessly.

My mom splits the bread and gives us each a piece. The sweet strawberries help enhance the taste of the dry bread. Faye gets us each a glass of water from the sink, I gulp it down gratefully. My mom glances at the clock and nearly spews water from her mouth.

"Girls get going, you don't want to be late not on Laurel's special day," we push ourselves away from the table and head for the door. "Don't forget to uphold the Sterling honor," my mom calls after us as I close the door behind me.

"The Sterling honor," Faye scoffs, "as if we could ruin it," she continues. "You two have been working way to hard, mom's too stressed to pay much attention to me," she says teasingly gripping my shoulder gently.

I have to mentally push her affection away, I can't do it physically people are watching. We walk in silence for a few minutes, a boy from school waves at me. I do my best to wave shyly back.

I don't care for this District, no one knows my secret, no one knows why I hide behind my sisters whenever a peacekeeper walks by. No one knows the true reason at least. We arrive at the District Square and I act out the part that I've played since I was twelve, Kiva and Faye perform flawlessly.

"No, not the blood," I whisper to Kiva, loud enough so the others around me will hear the timid mess in my voice.

"It's only a prick, Laurel, its not all that bad," Faye tells me softly. I timidly stretch my hand out and the peacekeeper stabs the needle into my fingertip, the prick doesn't bother me I can hardly feel it, but I wince anyways.

The three of us walk into the actual district square and move towards the front, near the stage that is set up every year. I allow myself a second to ponder where the stage is stored during the time between games, then force myself back into my persona. Since Faye and I are both seventeen we stand right behind Kiva, within twenty feet of the Justice Building.

The sound of feet hitting stone registers in my ears and I glance behind me. A group of eight peacekeepers are escorting our district's escort. She's a tall woman with electric blue hair and thin jagged lines of blue and yellow crisscrossing her face and arms.

I shy away from the approaching guard of peacekeepers, I recognize one as Gaius. Fala Achrane smiles as she walks, a pompous grin full of small white teeth.

She seems to be genuinely enjoying herself in the midst of her protectors, flashing her smile at the children of the district that glare at her with hatred and, in many, envy. Who wouldn't envy her, she never goes hungry and doesn't have to work for her electricity every day.

The group passes us without looking, they've been instructed not to even glance at us, their only job is protecting this lady from the Capitol. This group of peacekeepers causes me to look at the surrounding buildings, more peacekeepers in their white uniforms perched in machine gun nests, guns trained on the youth of the district.

Faye and I get shuffled into the pack of other seventeens, Kiva continues on and we lose her in the eighteens section. I cast shy glances around at the surrounding kids in many different states of panic. I see a few with their arms across their chests, trying to look brave, but we can all see through the act, all of us except the Capitol perhaps. Others are standing with their friends some talking about what's coming up, and others are standing like statues, as if moving could be misinterpreted as a gesture for volunteering, even though the reaping hasn't even started yet.

I take a moment to look at my behavior. I'm sitting in the shadow of my sister, looking with wide eyes at those around me. The square fills and the mayor takes his place at the podium and begins the Treaty of Treason.

* * *

Borris Tapa's POV

* * *

The sky is blue. I gaze at the fluffy white clouds floating across the sky in the small reflective pond behind my house. A single tadpole swims through the water, causing small ripples to distort my image.

I catch my eye and am surprised to see the fire within the irises. I visualize small flames flickering within the ring of dark green. The district should thank me, not yet but after I get home from the games. I was going to volunteer last year, but the knowledge of the upcoming Quell stayed my hand. That and the fact that I was only fourteen.

My eyes track the movement of the tadpole, its body making bizarre designs. The small black form makes a 'Q' shape and my mind flies to the Reaping today. I will win the games for the district this year, no boy will need to die for us this time.

My mind jumps to death, and then to Cato. His near death would have been impossible for someone like me to survive. Mutts. Trying to win the hunger games would be difficult without the mutts, the mutts add a whole new level of dread and horror to the whole thing.

Suddenly the shining sun doesn't seem so warm and I shiver. My mind begins to retreat and it tries to talk me out of going to the Hunger Games, but I've set my will in stone. Nothing will distract me from the task at hand, which just happens to be volunteering for the games for now. I'll tackle the other challenges as they come.

"Borris, you need to leave come on, it won't help if you're late," my mom tells me from the back door. I push myself off the grass and walk to the house. My green shirt feeling just a little to tight. My mom brandishes a black tie and slides it under my collar and around my neck, then ties it for me. She then brushes dirt off my khaki pants.

She pulls me into a tight hug and whispers into my ear, "I love you." I whisper the phrase back into her ear. "Break times over, time to get down to the district square," she tells me firmly in a joking fashion. I laugh and walk across the room and slip my dress shoes onto my feet and open the front door.

The sun shines brightly and I see the many lightning rods equipped with solar panels and other devices as they prod the sky to provide the energy needed for Panem. _Mostly the Capitol_, I think to myself.

I walk down the roads that are never used in the general direction of the district square. My dad had to be at the square early since he's the mayor. I approach the square with its bright banners advertising the Hunger Games. I check in early, hardly anyone is here which I wouldn't be here if I didn't have to, but since I'm the son of the mayor and a power station leader on time usually means thirty minutes early.

Franz is on the stage sitting in the escorts chair, he really shouldn't but no one stops him. He's chatting to dad animating his words slightly with his hands. On two large banners hanging from the front of the justice building are the faces of last years tributes.

I didn't pay much attention to the games last year, but I do remember that the girl made it to fourth place. My mom got really excited that someone from District Five might have a chance of actually winning, then she fell over and died after consuming the Nightlock she had just stolen.

People start filling the square and Jordan comes up behind me. "How are we today," she asks me a little to cheerfully, her words are full of enthusiasm.

"Why are you so energized today?" I ask her, making a joke about the time she accidentally shocked herself. It hurt but we just joke about it now, might as well there's hardly anything that brings us joy anymore.

She snorts a laugh and replies with a striking smile "why not?"

"For one its reaping day," I say.

"Yes and that's why I'm excited," she says perplexingly "it's exactly what the Capitol tells us to do, and for once I can actually honestly say I'm happy for this Reaping,"

"This year is a Quell," I remind her.

"Yes and that's why I'm excited," she repeats.

"Quells are bad," I say.

"I know silly," she tells me giggling which she never does. "But this quell isn't very bad," she says.

"How!" I ask exasperatedly.

"Because I know that for once we will both be perfectly safe," she says and hugs me, I return the hug and pull her in tightly, knowing that very soon I will need to break her heart to help the district.

I release her from my grip just as Issac walks up beside us, I can see his slight tremble. "You ok man," I ask him, genuinely concerned, Issac isn't the kind of kid that you can joke with about this kind of stuff.

"Yeah I'm fine," he replies unconvincingly.

"Ok just making sure, you look a little nervous,"

"I'm fine," he repeats and I leave him alone.

The square continues to fill up as the multitudes of people check in. We stand in silence. I try to think of ways to start up a conversation but I don't have anything. Besides, the silence adds a layer of peace to my mind.

The district escort, Fala Achrane, walks up the stairs leaving her platoon of peacekeepers behind. They guard the stage as if we were about to attack and try to kill her, which probably isn't far from many of the thoughts going through the adults minds.

The white uniforms look very clean compared to the rather dirty appearance of the rest of the district. The white fur cape of Head Peacekeeper Sterling waves slightly in the wind. His cape is made from the skin of some kind of wild mutt that was used against the districts during the rebellion that brought on the Hunger Games.

The monstrosity got over the electric fence surrounding the district and caused havoc during the night. The street was stained red, and the gutters ran with blood. The next morning the beast was still roaming out in the open chewing on an arm, the white fur around its fanged jowls stained with the blood of victims.

Head Peacekeeper Sterling was the first to discover it and was quickly attacked. My grandfather was nearby and helped get the beast off of him, suffering ghastly wounds of his own.

No one is sure why he tried to save the Head Peacekeeper but he did. Maybe it was the agonizing screams that came from his throat, that sound would have brought anyone running.

Peacekeepers had swarmed the street, not expecting the fury of claws and teeth that awaited them. The mutt had left the Head Peacekeeper to die since it was programmed to kill as many people as possible.

The machine gun nest on the corners of the building were rendered useless due to its bullet proof skin. Flash bombs were used to stun the creature, they netted it and began to sever its head from its body. Six peacekeepers lost their lives in the effort but eventually they removed its head and it died.

Head Peacekeeper Sterling suffered irreparable and fatal wounds and when he finally died, they told his son and he claimed the position. He skinned the beast throughout the following month - dulling several knives - and sent it back to the Capitol to have it fashioned into the cape he wears now.

I'm brought back to reality by Fala Achrane's announcement that the reaping is now officially ready to begin. I shake my head to clear it from the day dream I had. I set my eyes in a clear, determined expression silently hoping that Issac and Jordan won't notice.

Issac looks at me and Jordan looks into my eyes, understanding flashing into them.

"Borris?"

* * *

Laurel Sterling's POV

* * *

The Treaty of Treason starts and I put on a sad face, all for show of course. I get sympathetic looks from the more scrawny boys around me. The treaty ends and I raise my eyes, making sure they are slightly damp before doing so. Fala steps up to the microphone and begins to explain how the reaping will work this year.

"There are no bowls to choose from this year for it is only volunteers," she titters her annoying laugh while we stand in silence. She finishes her little laugh and then begins talking again, "lets begin with the ladies first. Who among you would like to represent district five in this years Hunger Games, the Third Quarter Quell!"

She obviously is expecting many of us to jump with enthusiasm and fight for the position but of course, no one does. I put my hand in position and get ready, I need to look hesitant otherwise this could all backfire. I freeze in place as the 'What ifs' begin to bombard my brain.

_What if I'm not ready_ this unwelcome thought paralyzed my body, as if I had touched an electric wire. _What if the Strong ones won't accept me_ this is a major issue, I need to make it with them otherwise there isn't much of a chance of my survival.

"Laurel, what are you doing?" Faye asks me. Her question isn't part of our plan and comes unexpectedly but it stimulates my mind. "Mom will flog you," she continues, simultaneously working this comment as an urging to me and appearing as a warning to a frightened girl.

I raise my hand, the doubts gone. This was never certain, we don't know if the stronger players won't bring me in, these are the Hunger Games nothing goes as planned. I have to stop myself from laughing a dark, cold unhumorous laugh.

"I... I volunteer," I say shyly.

"Magnificent, young lady please come up to the front," I walk through the group of other seventeens that part for me and reach the pathway that has been provided for the tribute. calmly I walk up to the stage with a small forced quivering in my hands. _Right about now Kiva,_ I think to myself. She plays her part right on time and without a flaw.

"Laurel, no," she starts. "Laurel NO!" She screams hysterically. I do have to admit that she is a very convincing actor, either that or she isn't completely acting. I can tell that part of her is concerned for my safety but I refuse to acknowledge it.

I pass Gaius and he smiles at me, his revolting yellowed teeth showing. I pass my dad in his white Peacekeeper cape, he acknowledges me with a small nod of his head nothing more. I reach the position in front of the microphone.

"Tell us your name," Fala tells me.

"Laurel-" Kiva's voice breaks and she starts sobbing.

"M- My name is L-Laurel S-Sterling," I say it with my stutter firm in place.

"Now we have our female tribute for this year," Fala exclaims, "but we still need a boy tribute, who will rise up and protect this lovely young girl." Kiva gives a new wave of sobs after this exclamation and I can see her friends supporting her. I move backward and under the banner of the girl from last year, she made it pretty far, her name escapes me though.

"That means go," Fala says when nobody raises their hand. A minute goes by, then another. I spot two people in the fifteens section whispering furiously. More people begin to notice, including the peacekeepers in the machine gun nests on the buildings.

I watch curiously wondering when the peacekeepers will stop it. Murmurs begin to sprout up in other locations around this square. Suddenly a shot is fired and I see father holding a smoking revolver in his hand. Silence. My dad replaces the revolver into the holster at his thigh.

His message is clear: keep talking and you die. The silence persists for more than a minute with no sound, even the birds have gone silent.

Fala looks uncomfortable when she starts talking again, "boys remember that if one of you doesn't volunteer in five minutes you get a hunger games all to yourself-"

"I volunteer!" The voice comes from the boy that started the whispering. "I volunteer," he says again, pushing his way through the crowd. My father glares at him as he passes, one hand on the gun.

"Tell us your name please," Fala tells him.

"Borris Tapa," he says firmly not letting a hint of fear into his voice. Fala seems to want to end the reaping quickly and she nearly pushes him into the spot under the banner of last years boy.

The anthem begins and our past victors shake our hands, there aren't too many so it is relatively brief. Borris and I shake hands and look into each others eyes, I put the most innocent expression possible into them. The anthem comes to its grand end and peacekeepers guide us into the Justice Building.

* * *

Borris Tapa's POV

* * *

"Borris?" Jordan says again. I grit my teeth hating myself for what I'm about to do. "Borris you can't do this," she tells me in a harsh whisper. I should have known that not telling her would result in something like this.

"I can do this," I tell her, trying to comfort her but nothing I could ever say could comfort her.

"Borris, you don't know that," she tells me.

"There are no bowls to choose from this year for it is only volunteers," Fala laughs and I hold back my reply. "lets begin with the ladies first. Who among you would like to represent district five in this years Hunger Games, the Third Quarter Quell!" She pronounces as grandly as she can. I turn away from Jordan, I don't want to see the accusing look in her eyes.

Someone in the seventeens section raises her hand rather timidly. "I... I volunteer," she says. The people part and she walks through, she's trembling. Screams from the eighteen year old section erupt and I can just barely see who I think is her older sister.

"Laurel no. Laurel NO!" She screams hysterically.

"Please don't react like that," I whisper in Jordan's ear.

"Please don't volunteer," she bites back.

"Tell us your name," Fala tells the girl that just volunteered.

"Laurel-" the screamers come again and then end in a fit of sobbing.

"M- My name is L-Laurel S-Sterling," Laurel says tripping painfully over her stutter.

"Now we have our female tribute for this year," Fala exclaims, "but we still need a boy tribute, who will rise up and protect this lovely young girl."

"Borris, don't," Jordan begs me.

"Jordan I can win, you remember Finnick right?" I don't let her reply before continuing, "I figure I can pull off something similar to what he did a few years ago,"

"Borris, this isn't District Four, you aren't a career,"

"That means go," Fala tells us after a few seconds of inactivity.

"I can do this, I'll play it from my looks, get sponsors and come back home," I tell Jordan, a little louder than I intended. I'm not looking up at the stage anymore, but instead into Jordan's beautiful green eyes, they have tears at the edges of them.

This detail turns my will to water and I sit in silence for a minute, then two. If somebody else volunteers then I don't get my chance to be at the Capitol.

"Jordan, I can make it," I tell her again.

"No Borris, you can't," she tells me sternly.

"The girls will love me and I'll get a bunch of sponsor gifts, then I can win,"

"Borris, there's a girl that already likes you," she tells me sharply. "Me." This almost stops me.

I take her hand and look into her eyes. "Jordan, I know what I'm doing,"

"Guys you might want to stop," Issac warns us. I look at him and hear the mutters that have arisen from the crowd around us.

A gunshot cracks through the air and everyone stops talking. I look around wondering who was shot, since it wasn't me and it wasn't Jordan or Issac. I look to the front and see Head Peacekeeper Sterling with his gun held high, the barrel releasing a stream of white smoke.

He holds the revolver in the air and glares at me. I have a feeling that if it wasn't Reaping day I would likely be dead on the street. He replaces the gun at his side and shifts his gaze to everyone else in the square.

"Boys remember that if one of you doesn't volunteer in five minutes you get a Hunger Games all to yourself-" Fala says but I cut her off.

"I volunteer!" I shout into the air, "I volunteer," I repeat. Jordan's hand tightens around mine and I have to pull my grip from it.

"I won't make a fuss," she tells me with tears falling from her eyes. I move away from her and force my way through the other fifteens and up to the stage. Head Peacekeeper Sterling stares at me with the most angry expression I've ever seen on a human beings face.

"Tell us your name please," Fala instructs.

_I must sound strong_, "Borris Tapa" I say making sure nothing even relevant to fear is present. Fala moves me under the large banner with the picture of last years tribute.

The anthem begins and our past victors begin to shake our hands. After they finish I shake Laurels hand. We look into each others eyes and I find myself filled with a moment of panic. I'm staring directly into the eyes of Laurel Sterling. The daughter of Head Peacekeeper Sterling. How did I miss her last name!? Head Peacekeeper Sterling can tear someone apart with his bare hands and I don't doubt that he would do anything to save his daughter, or do anything to the person that killed her.

I feel my heart sink, if I come out of this alive I will die at his hands under the pretense of the punishment of interrupting at the reaping or some other offense.

I release her hand and peacekeepers guide her into the Justice building and push me behind.

* * *

**I know its not the best chapter I've written so far but at least its here.**

**I am pleased to announce that I don't have anymore open tribute spots (this may not be pleasing to you but it is to me:)**

**I will work on writing the next chapter and hope to get it up quickly. Thanks for reading. Perhaps you could review**


	9. District Six

**Wow I actually got a chapter up quickly :7**

**I like this chapter honestly it all flowed really smooth when I wrote it at least.**

**ok thanks to Katsparkle13 for Copper Elis and I made Truen Destein. Hopefully you are just as pleased with this chapter as I am.**

* * *

_"The people have not stirred, we are abandoned by those who live in fear," _

_—Enjloras, Dawn of Anguish_

* * *

Copper Ellis's POV

* * *

I hold the knife in my hand. I'm not quite sure why I have it, or how I got it for that matter. Scratch that, its my dads. I hoped he wouldn't steal another one from the peacekeepers, but that hope was dashed when I saw the glint of silver in his bedroom.

I remember his fists smashing into my back those many years ago when I was eight. I've generally tried to stay away from him since then. I'm still not certain why I try to protect him from the peacekeepers by taking his knives, maybe I'm just scared that he might use them on me or my sister Sila.

I'm sitting near the electrical fence of the district, my back to the deadly barrier. I slide my finger down the flat side of the blade, wondering if I should add it to my private little stash. I never intend to use them but if there was an uprising... I'd be ready.

I decide against it, even though I'm nearly sitting on the pile of rocks and dirt that conceals the wooden box of knives. I rise from my sitting position and begin to walk towards home.

I stop at about ten paces and turn towards the fence. I'm not thinking about running from the district, I wouldn't survive long. I wouldn't even make it past the fence. I take a step towards the ten foot high fence and throw my knife at an old overgrown tree, my only intention being to remove the knife from the District.

The knife sails true but it doesn't quite clear the fence. Instead of lodging in the old trunks of the tree I'm aiming at, the knife gets caught in the coil of thin barbed wire. The knife severs some of the wire and sparks begin to erupt from the coil.

The sound of electricity crackling and the blaring alarm sends me running, repair men will be on their way soon, no doubt with a legion of peacekeepers trailing behind searching for me. I begin to speedwalk away but end up running, my copper colored hair bouncing as I sprint.

I slow down after about a mile of running, they won't find me. Won't be able to associate me with the damaged fence. I look behind me, making sure I don't have any pursuers.

I try to slow my breathing. I breathe in, then out. My breathing comes closer to normal, I don't want to walk in the door panting like a dog. That would not make mom happy, and stress isn't the type of thing that she needs right now. My mind offers a different solution, why not just go straight to the square. I begin walking again, towards the district square this time, I don't want to be around anyone right now, not even Sila for whom I always have time for.

The smell of pollution gradually increases and it takes my nose a while to adjust, just as it always does. That's why I like it near the fence, the air is always fresh. Well nearly always.

The paved road stretches from the dirt path I was following. I ditch the road and follow the train tracks towards district square. I run along the rails, not wanting to have to jump across the ties.

I nearly fall when the rails begin to shake, almost like the earthquakes that we sometimes get. I recover from my trip and look around for a way off the tracks. The ground to either side is about ten feet down so the only place to go is under the tracks. I stoop down and slide off a metal railroad tie to the dry ground below.

My feet land on the dusty ground and I duck my head so as not to get it blown off by the approaching train. I wait, until the rumbling grows to a deafening volume. The sun disappears and I'm left in the dark. I glance up and see the train flying by, blocking all the sunlight except for the bursts of light as the wheels roll past.

The wind from the train blows rocks and debris onto my head. I push myself as close as possible to the ground. I put my hands over my ears, trying to block out the noise.

Light re-enters the cavity that I'm hiding in and the noise stops. My ears are ringing. I stand up woozily and look around. The cave I took shelter in is about four feet deep.

I duck back down and my eyes pick out a metal ring. It looks plenty old with rust covering most of the surface. I slip my fingers around it and lift it up. It catches on something and I have to pull harder to move it. I tug and a wooden board comes up, the ring is attached to one end.

I hold the board open and look down at where it was. Light filters in and I make out some objects: a lamp, a broken metal nail, some papers, an empty can.

My curiosity gets the better of me and I slide down into this hole, making sure the board stays open.

I fall down the five feet, landing stiffly, and look around the room. Dust is on nearly every surface. I look around and see a rifle sitting in a corner and a curved sword next to it. A box of ammunition sits on a makeshift desk.

My hair stands on edge, something about the aged dust and the gun. A box hangs from the wall and inside is a pistol sitting on some wasted shells, next to the box is another, this one full of unspent bullets and a small brown package.

I try to resist the urge to look around more but this will probably be the only time I'll get a chance to see this place.

I find a messy stack of papers and start at the bottom one, lifting all those on top to get a better view.

_October 16th, _

_Some suspicion has been going around at the Station, there are some that think that it was I who killed the peacekeeper, which isn't far from the truth, as we have discussed earlier. But anyways keep your guard up, they might suspect your association with me and come after you. _

_But don't worry I don't think they actually suspect me, just fear going around._

The date triggers a wave of fear, that wasn't too long ago and these people seem like murderers. I remember the news broadcast that offered a very tempting reward for the capture of the killer of a certain infamous peacekeeper. It seems that I have stumbled upon their hideout.

I look through the rest of the stack and the dates begin to get closer to the present

_October 20th,_

_Truen,_

_No, nobody suspects a thing, it's just you being paranoid as usual. Sorry we couldn't talk at work recently, Zila had tasks for me to do. You know the old goat, she hates anything that doesn't "ride with the program' as she says it._

_But anyways, like you said, stay alert and don't get caught. Haha_

_-Pallas_

I flip through the papers, getting closer to the top, skipping a few that aren't very interesting.

_December 18th_

_We should strike down HJ_

This one baffles me, who is HJ? this is beginning to seem more and more like a hit list?

_December 22nd _

_Truen, are you crazy? No wonder you didn't tell me this yesterday. We aren't skilled assassins, there's no way we could do it._

_I was told today after work that I will be moved to a different Station next week, so this will be our last week to talk to each other face to face. I'm not excited since Zila will be moving with the twenty or so of us._

_-Pallas_

_January 5th_

_It's been a while, how's the new facility? We should meet here sometime, its lonely coming here by myself_

_January 8th_

_Truen,_

_We hardly ever met here, and we never came together so how can you be lonely? The new facility is ok, I don't like most of the people but that's to be expected. How have you been doing?_

_-Pallas_

_January 15th_

_I don't know, it just doesn't feel right going to work without you. I've been fine but I almost got whipped when Shak found my knife. He almost told HJ who just happened to be on the job that day. I _persuaded _him_ _not to something that foolish. _

_I still stand strong with what I said earlier, we need to take him out._

I look around feeling guilty, but nobody is here to catch me. I turn back to the next letter.

_January 19th_

_Truen, _

_We need to meet, like this week._

_-Pallas_

_Febuary 28th_

_Im sorry I yelled at you, I can't stand not speaking._

_March 6th_

_Pallas? Can you answer me?_

_March 10th_

_I know your mad at me, but I need you. Please_

_March 15th_

_I know you've been here I can see the shifts in the dust, could you please pick up the pen and write to me?_

_March 16th_

_Truen, _

_There is no chance of you or me taking out HJ, quite suggesting it and maybe I'll start writing back to you_

_-Pallas_

_March 17th_

_Thanks, you were right it was a stupid suggestion and I'm relieved that you don't hate me anymore_

_March 19th_

_Truen, _

_I never hated you, I hated your actions. We need to talk again, I'll meet you here day of the Reaping_

_-Pallas_

_March 20th_

_Ok, I'll see you the 23rd. In the ammunition box there is a necklace that I stole from a jeweler. Just kidding, I found it. It almost looks like something from the Capitol if you squint and shake your head a bit. Just like you always do whenever I say something stupid. It might remind you of me when you have to deal with my suggestions._

This is the top and final letter in the pile. Someone clears their throat behind me and I whirl around, immediately feeling guilty.

"Almost done there?" The boy who can only be Truen asks me, not overly harsh.

"Um yeah, I'm done," I say with a small jest of humor

"Good, good now why don't you tell me why your here," he tells me with a new edge in his voice. I tense up, he is at least a head taller than me, though its hard to tell since he's stooped over.

I don't answer, to stunned and unsure of what to do or say to this boy who I'm pretty sure has killed a peacekeeper or two.

"I'll ask again," he says pulling out a pistol and calmly fitting a bullet into the empty chamber. "How did you get here,"

"I... I..." I'm at a lost for words and Truen is growing inpatient. He gets closer, keeping the barrel of his gun pointed at me. I back into the writing desk and he leans over me. He reaches over for the box full of bullets and his fingers touch the brown package. I know this because his features relax.

"Oh your lucky you didn't take that," he tells me wisely, "I would have shot your kneecap right out," he animates slightly with his hands when he speaks, "and trust me, that's not very pleasant for either of us," I gulp loudly.

"But don't think that I'll let you off so easy, you still haven't told me why and how you got here,"

"Truen!" A voice calls out.

"Pallas, I'm down here," he says not taking his eyes off me, like a Career closing in on a kill.

"Of course you are you twit," she calls back, her voice closer now, " but who in District Six are you talking to?" She inquires.

"Come see for yourself," he tells her.

Pallas hops down and looks at me shrewdly. "Who's this?" She asks Truen.

"Not, sure I found her reading our notes," he tells her.

"Have you asked her why she's here yet?" Pallas asks him sharply.

"Of course," he replies.

"And what did she say?"

"Nothing yet,"

"I'll change that," Pallas says, walking to the corner. She stands in consideration and then places a hand on the curved sword. "I'll change that,"

* * *

Truen Destein's POV

* * *

I walk along the dusty ground towards the railroad tracks. I'm excited, since I'll finally meet Pallas on friendlier terms than before. I remember our last meeting how we fought like children.

I'm not quite sure what to expect since its been more than a month. I reach the lower portion of the tracks and climb up onto them. The sun beats down as I walk along the tracks. A train horn blares behind me, _probably the rich kids getting of the train for the reaping_, I think to myself.

I walk with my head down, not wanting any chance passerby to recognize me. I wish I had brought my fedora. I analyze the railroad ties, looking for the symbol that we engraved there with a broken nail.

I find the circle with lines crossing through it that we designated as a sign of our hideout. I don't hear anyone inside, perfect I want to surprise her when she gets here.

I land softly as I jump from the tracks and stoop down to our doorway. It's open, she could have possibly come and just not replaced the trapdoor.

That's when I know something is wrong, Pallas would never leave this spot exposed to the sun, our lives depend on it. If anyone read our letters inside...

I calm myself, I don't see anyone inside from my current vantage point but a peacekeeper could easily be hidden within.

I poke my head down into the cooler air inside and see a girl with long copper colored hair. I jump down into the opening silently and conceal my rage. She's oblivious to the world, reading our letters.

I clear my throat, alerting her to my presence. Her innocent eyes strike me unexpectedly, but I take precautions against this, many people with innocent eyes turn out to be killers.

"Almost done there?" I ask, trying to keep rage from my voice.

"Yeah I'm done," she replies. She knows who I am, no doubt about that, she read the whole stack of letters.

"Good, good now why don't you tell me why your here," I ask, fitting the natural edge into my voice, this has the desired effect. Silence. Now I know that she is a timid girl afraid of people that are bigger than she is.

"I'll ask again," I say pulling out the pistol from my belt and placing one of my few blanks from my pocket. I place it calmly into the first chamber and point it at her with my finger on the trigger. "How did you get here,"

"I... I..." This is all she gets out. The pistol also has its desired effect, since I already know she's scared of me, I can use the combined fear of being shot to manipulate her.

She backs up and a new thought enters my mind. I move closer and push the gun closer to her. I move around to the box of usable ammunition. My fingers feel the brown bag that contains the necklace I got for Pallas.

I relax a bit and remove some bullets in my hand, not intending on using them, but you never know.

"Oh your lucky you didn't take that," I tell her, "I would have shot your kneecap right out and trust me, that's not very pleasant for either of us," I say this referring to the time that I shot a peacekeepers knee off and left him to die in the pits of the train track. I hear her gulp loudly.

"But don't think that I'll let you off so easy, you still haven't told me why and how you got here," I keep my gun, loaded only with the blank bullet, pointed at her skull.

"Truen!" Pallas' voice calls out my name.

"Pallas, I'm down here," I say calmly, not wanting her to know about our... company

"Of course you are you twit," she calls back, her voice closer now, "but who in District Six are you talking to?" She inquires.

"Come see for yourself," I call back.

Pallas hops down and observes the girl that I'm pointing my gun at. "Who's this?" She asks me.

"Not, sure I found her reading our notes," I tells her, trying to get her on my side, she might side with this girl with innocent eyes. If she's still mad at me that is.

"Have you asked her why she's here yet?" Pallas ask me quickly.

"Of course," I respond, shocked at how readily she was to think that I wouldn't do that.

"And what did she say?"

"Nothing yet,"

"I'll change that," Pallas says, walking to the corner. I don't take my eyes off this girl. She sets a hand on the dusty scimitar "I'll change that," she says and lifts it to her shoulder.

The girl has obvious fear in her eyes, this wouldn't be the first time we've had this type of situation. Last time it was a peacekeeper and we ended up cutting out his tung so he couldn't scream as loud. We were near the fence and his mangled screams didn't go far.

We stripped off his upper clothes and I put on his gloves. Then we pushed him against the fence. I remember his body writhing in my hands as the electric current coursed through his body and stopped at my gloves.

I'm normally not a big fan of torture but anyone that serves the Capitol deserves to die through whatever means we chose. I wanted to do something similar to Head Peacekeeper Julian and that's what lead to the argument between me and Pallas. And now we are here.

Pallas has the sword in her hand - the very same she used to make an Avox of the peacekeeper - and a victim.

"Why are you here?" Pallas asks in the most calming voice she can muster.

"I... Was going down to the district, but a train came and I ducked down- " I cut her off.

"And you decided to look around our hideout?" I ask, moving the gun to her knee. She squeals and flinches as I flex my finger. The sound of the gunshot rings through the room and I load another blank into chamber after releasing the smoking shell from the gun. I let it clatter to the ground.

"Thanks Truen, now I'm deaf in this ear," Pallas says sarcastically.

"That was strike one," I tell the girl, ignoring Pallas. The girl is just realizing that she wasn't shot, "strike two is a blank also but strike three wont stop at the hammer, Understand?" I tell the quivering girl firmly She nods quickly. "then answer the questions fast and honestly,"

"She was Truen but you decided to blast your gun," Pallas tells me. "Right now what were you doing inside here?" Pallas asks her.

"Like I said, the train came and I ducked down, then I saw the ring and pulled up the trapdoor and had a look around," the girl responds.

"And does anybody know where you are?" Pallas asks in her soothing voice.

"No," the girl responds a little abashed.

"Why were you on the train tracks," Pallas persists.

"I was going down to the square early," she mutters with a glance at me.

"But the reaping doesn't start for another thirty minutes," Pallas tells her. "Why were you going down early," she seems embarrassed and won't speak.

I become impatient and bark out "well spit it out, what were you doing," a surprising flame of defiance springs in her eyes when she responds.

"I threw a knife at the fence around District Six and cut a wire," she tells me firmly.

"So your running from the peacekeepers?"

"I didn't say that," she counters with new and surprising courage

I laugh, I'm starting to like this girl now that she isn't a stuttering timid child.

"But that's what you were doing," I press, relaxing my voice a bit.

"Maybe," she says mysteriously.

"We're you or we're you not?" Pallas asks, seriously.

"I was, I just didn't know it at the time," she says.

"So your on the run. A rebel," Pallas says hopefully, I know that tone in her voice. Every time someone is whipped or beaten in public she asks them if they had some hand with the rebels. She desperately wants to expand our little group of two.

"No," the girl says quickly, "I was aiming at a tree on the other side of the fence and hit the wire instead,"

"What's your name?" Pallas asks.

"Copper, Copper Ellis,"

"Mine's Pallas, no last name,"

"I knew that," Copper says.

"I figured but we still haven't been introduced," Pallas says and looks inquiringly at me.

"I'm Truen," I say not wanting to reveal my name, you never know who can be a spy, there are always eyes for hire.

"We should probably get down to the square, its a long dry walk," Pallas says. Copper seems pleased that she has made friends with Pallas so easily, this pulls my guard back up to full, I didn't even realize it was down.

We go to the trap door and Pallas helps Copper out of the pit. Copper is small, I'd estimate around five feet at most. She can't reach the lip without help. Pallas helps her up to the train tracks even though Copper resists.

"We need to move quickly otherwise we might be late," I say, my mind back on its normal schedule. Even though our meeting didn't go as planned, I was hoping for her to discover the necklace. The necklace!

"I forgot something," I say quickly, then hop back down to the trap door and then to the room below. I scramble over to the ammunition box and withdraw the bag containing the necklace. As an afterthought I grab my last letter to Pallas and stuff it into my back pocket.

When I come back up Copper has a knowing look on her small face and Pallas is looking at me questioningly.

"What did you forget?" She asks me cooly.

I shake my head, "it wasn't there, I might have left it at home," I lie to her, I'll surprise her with it later. She accepts this, but she knows I'm not telling the full truth. Normally she would press the subject but Copper's presence calms that emotion.

"Can you run fast? We'll need to run to the level spot and then backtrack a bit to get to the square the normal way," I direct this at Copper.

"I'd like to see you catch me," she replies with a note of pride in her voice. I doubt she actually means that but she takes off running down the rails instead of jumping across the ties like Pallas and I do.

"She's fast," Pallas says with a teasing sound in her voice.

"That was..." I let it hang there, knowing Pallas will finish the sentence for me.

"Unexpected," She supplies, "come on we'll loose her if we stand around talking any longer," we start running after Copper, barely visible ahead of us.

"I don't trust her," I huff out as we jump across the railroad ties, neither of us has good enough balance to run on the actual rails.

"Truen, you don't trust anyone," She tells me.

"Yeah, but still," I reply.

"You just have a bad feeling?" She asks me. I'm surprised that she knew and immediately ask how.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" I ask

"I have the same one,"

* * *

Copper Ellis's POV

* * *

I sit on the railroad tracks as I wait for Truen and Pallas to arrive. I sprinted, just to show off, but I don't think Truen expected me to move so quickly. I consider running back to them and demand what's taking so long but that might be pushing it with Truen.

I hang my head back and absorb the hot sun. It's been a hot month but my skin still hasn't tanned at all. I look around, feeling slightly exposed without the older two around me.

I stand up and yell in their general direction, "hurry up!" I don't know if they hear me or not, I don't have a booming voice. I wait another few minutes before they reach me breathing heavily.

"What took you so long?" I ask.

"We aren't a speeding train like you," Pallas says after taking a few short bursts of air. We walk across the dusty ground and eventually reach the outskirts of the center town of the district. At a far off station in the other side of this town, a train is loaded with kids from the farther parts of the district, the ones that can afford the ticket at least.

We make better time than Truen expected with at least ten minutes before the reaping begins. In spite of myself I'm starting to see Truen as a friend, even though he threatened to blow my knee off. I'm not sure why but I feel drawn to him. Not in a romantic way, I'm not quite sure in what kind of way.

I sign in with Truen and Pallas right behind me. We split up and Truen and Pallas go up to the sixteens section whilst I hang at the back of the square.

I don't see any of my friends, but then again its a large district so they could be on the far side of the roped off sections. Capricorn Agate stands behind the microphone counting down the seconds until the reaping starts. She is so excited it seems like it should be seeping into all of us. But it doesn't, it never does. The clock in the square ticks to the allotted hour and rings with a flourish of bells.

"Welcome everyone, to the reaping of District Six," she says, not bothering to look at who is actually listening. "This year is special, it is the third quarter quell!" She claps after this and none of us follow in suit. Capricorn looks at the nearest peacekeeper and whispers something frantically. He looks at her and walks up the stairs to the microphone.

"Listen everyone, this is a Capitol holiday, so straighten up or you'll be on the tracks outta here," Head peacekeeper Julian's voice echoes through the square.

Clapping begins to burst in sections of the square and everyone halfheartedly starts clapping. My hands come together maybe five times. When he says on the tracks he means stretching you across the train rails and driving a train down the tracks at a crawl. Very painful. A very effective way to get people to do what you want.

Capricorn seems satisfied and waves a hand to quite us down. "Now like I said this year is a Quarter Quell," she pauses and we take the cue and begin clapping vigorously. Capricorn seems pleased and continues with her speech. "In honor of the seventy-fifth hunger games, only volunteers will be accepted for these game," she says matter-of-factly, "but before we can get to that part of the reaping it is time for the Treaty of Treason, Mr. Mayor if you will," she says and back away from the mic.

The Treaty of Treason is the same as it is every year, dull dreary and not very entertaining. He reads off the names of past victors, we have around seven threw of which are so intoxicated with morphline that they couldn't attend and two are dead. A surprising announcement follows the reading of the past victors.

"A knife has been found in the coil of wire surrounding the District fence, it appears to have been deliberately cut, anyone with information about this event will be rewarded handsomely," his words hang in the air and I try not to look to guilty. Murmuring arises whispers about this attack on the fence. Surely Truen won't turn me in. I hope.

Mr. Mayor -which happens to be his actual last name- takes the steps back to his seat and Capricorn replaces him.

"We'll wasn't that enthralling," she says happily. She gets a general nod of consent and she continues. "Lets begin normally shall we, ladies first," no one stirs. Not to surprising.

A disturbing thought enters my mind, one I can't ignore or dispel. My sister is blind and crippled, if we get really rich, I could afford to buy Capitol treatments to cure her.

The thought appalls and appeals to me. On one hand I'd be marching to certain death, but I have a smidgen of a chance to come back with an endless supply of cash for whatever I want.

I have a silent battle with myself. I weigh the pros and cons of volunteering. In the pros section; I would bring food and provisions to the district throughout the next year, I could help bring Sila her eyesight and restore her legs and I wouldn't have to live with my horrible father. The cons side of the argument presents a much weightier threat; I could die, most likely would die. My district wouldn't benefit from it and my family won't have me anymore. Sila won't have anyone to protect her from the blows that come so often from my drunk dad.

My mothers words that she speaks so softly and so often reach my ear as if she were standing right next to me and whispering. Tomorrow will be kinder. Tomorrow will be kinder. I close my eyes and envision myself coming back to the district wearing a crown and fixing Sila's eyes and legs. It almost seems like my mother has been preparing me for this day, almost as if her words hold the promise that if I go I will win.

My daydream is shattered by Capricorns words, "Girls you have five more minutes before the penalty ensues,"

Her sentence is a direct challenge to me. A temptation. An opportunity. A death trap. My head fights with itself as it dissects the warning that Capricorn gave out so... excitedly.

"I volunteer," I say quietly, then louder, "I volunteer!"

"We have a volunteer, marvelous, young lady please come to the front," she tells me. My mind flashbacks to back in the cave this morning with Truen and Pallas. That moment seemed so long ago when Truen pulled the trigger delivering the blasting of the blank bullet. Capricorn's words hit me just as hard, except they hit like a loaded not a blank. There is no backing out now, no chance of escape, I have sealed my fate. I have just become a contestant in the Games.

"What is your name?"

"Copper Elis," I say, trying to say it calmly, wishing that Sila won't hear my words, but her ears are sharp enough to hear the sound of my voice in the middle of a tornado.

"Halfway there, now its time for the boys," She says to the cameras, "lets begin, shall we," my mind wonders, who will I have to kill in order to escape the arena with my life.

* * *

Truen Destein's POV

* * *

I'm in shock. The bad feeling that I had this morning turns out to be a warning. A sign that I missed. A sign that both Pallas and I missed.

"No, no this can't be happening," Pallas says defiantly, "why would she volunteer?"

Her question hangs in the air with only silence to respond. She knows I have no clue why someone who can at oldest be thirteen, would volunteer to go to the Hunger Games. I have nightmares about it myself, even though I could probably handle myself better than most from the outer districts.

My body is wracked with spasms, as it does whenever I'm in an overly stressful situation, like someone I know being reaped, or in this case volunteering. Pallas puts an arm on my shoulder and try's to minimize the spasmodic motions. I focus on her hand, it helps clear my head a little.

The jerks slow down in frequency as I regain my though and and they flow like melted ice.

"Pallas she'll die unless she has someone to protect her," Pallas, being as smart as she is, catches on instantly.

"Truen if you volunteer, you will die,"

"Five minutes boys," Capricorn announces, probably expecting something similar to Coppers volunteering.

"She won't live long, there isn't any chance of survival for her," I insist.

"She can run fast," Pallas replies.

"How long can she run that fast without food," I counter critically.

"Not long," Pallas agrees. We're analyzing the situation just like we would any other, weighing the risks with the potential benefits. "But how long could you survive,"

"I can handle myself around a sword, possibly a bow," I reply. This is odd, I'm trying to get myself into the Hunger Games, trying to navigate myself into my grave, by figuring out the chances with my best friend who doesn't want to loose me but agrees that someone needs to protect Copper, even if it has to be me.

"Your chances of winning are roughly four percent," she says, figuring out the gamble in her head.

"But the games aren't a random choice of a winner, it takes skills to win and I wouldn't die in the bloodbath,"

"So assuming that eight die in the bloodbath and about five die from natural instability that gives you about a nine percent chance of coming out on top," she tells me while she figures the probability of my survival.

"Plus about three more from the Gamemakers," I say as if I were the Gamemaker placing bets on who will win.

"That puts you at a twelve percent chance," she says stiffly, "not good odds,"

"Five... Four... Three... Two..." Capricorn starts counting down.

My mind jumps quickly and my hand jumps into the air, its worth the risk of dying to protect this fragile girl.

"One... Zero," Capricorn finishes as me and two others raise our hands as volunteers.

"Times up, lets see if any of you made it," Capricorn says tauntingly. I put my hand down, rage filling my veins.

"That was the right decision," Pallas assures me.

"I didn't make it," I say, "none of us did,"

"That came unexpectedly," Pallas tries to soothe me.

"No, I should have been paying attention, now no one will be there to help District Six," I say.

"Hush hush," Capricorn says as the screens fill with the replay of our district reaping. The time counts down in the top right corner of the screen, the digital clock extending to the thousandths place. The numbers flash by, slowed by the slow motion playback of the film.

The time expires and it starts timing the seconds passing. The hands raise at about .627 seconds after the time expires.

"Well it looks like we don't have any Male volunteer this year," Capricorn says. Some of the adults start shouting objections.

"They Volunteered!" Someone shouts in rage "that isn't fair to keep them out," he sounds like someone from District Two wanting his kid in the games.

"Oh don't worry," Capricorn addresses the man that just yelled, "they will still go to the games, just the games for District Six," she says with a bright red smile on her lips. More yelling and scuffling. A group of peacekeepers dispatches and retrieves the man that yelled about the injustice of the system. Capricorn has a devilish look on her face as he's dragged to the stage. The peacekeepers shove him to the ground and pull his hands behind his back.

"I do believe I told you all to straighten up," Julius says after the district falls silent. "Didn't I?" He asks the man on the ground. No response. "Answer me," Julius backhands him across the face.

"Yes," the man grunts in pain.

"Yes what?" Julius asks he gets the answer he's looking for from the man at his feet.

"I hate that man," I whisper to Pallas, "he needs to die," I'm afraid that she will reject like she did before but she only nods.

"District Six, watch as your small, worthless rebellion is crushed by my fist. Don't fight the Capitol or you will receive worse punishment. I promise," Julius announces to the rest of the captivated square. He pulls his rife from off his back and slams the but of it on the mans back. The peacekeepers hold him fast, about a foot off the ground.

We stand in silence as the punishment is carried out, just like we watch the Games, doing nothing but watching. Julius strikes three more times before stopping. He hands the bloodied gun to a nearby peacekeeper. He pulls a knife from his belt and puts it to his throat.

We hear Julius whisper to himself under his breath "no to fast,". He replaces the knife on his back and slides it through his back and into his ribs. The scream is terrifying. He pulls the blood red knife from his victims back and kicks the whimpering man to the ground, the peacekeepers release him letting him fall to the ground where he writhes like a snake.

He looks like he is having trouble breathing, _no duh Truen he just got his lung punctured,_ I tell myself fiercely. The mans scream echoes and then fades, his cries become softer and nobody helps him.

"Thank you Julius," Capricorn says, "now we have our volunteers," she gestures at the screen behind her where the volunteers hands are frozen in the air. Bright red words appear on the screen, the names of the three volunteers. "At the end of the annual games, District Six will have a personal games, here are our first three contestants," she clears her throat and reads the three names, "Truen Destein, Wye Lias, and Mogul Whein,"

I was right that I missed it, but increasingly shocked when she tells us that we will be going into the arena anyways.

"Thank you for your time," Capricorn says, "young lady please shake the hands of your past victors and potential mentors," the anthem plays and Capricorn leads Copper around to the six living victors, shaking hands with them. As the anthem ends Capricorn leads Copper into the Justice Building.

Julius takes his gun, points it right at the head of the dying man at his feet, and pulls the trigger.

* * *

**Unexpected Ending! Not really I knew what was gonna happen the whole time. **

**CallietheCareer I need your tributes for next chapter. **

**Im getting a little anxious for the games so my chapters might get increasingly short, but I will still try to give you a fairly good idea of who the Tributes are.**

**I do have to say that I am excited for the Games :)**

**Review!**


	10. District Seven

**Wow, eight days to get a new chapter, I think that's a new record. Like I said before the chapters will progressively get shorter so I hope you aren't too disappointed in this part of the story**.

**I want to thank oshb123 for submitting Miles and I supplied Styrax. **

**Just a heads up, Styrax's POV view might be a little difficult to follow, but I did that on purpose. Enjoy :)**

* * *

"In your eyes I am just like a child that was lost in a wood,"

—Cosette, In my Life

* * *

Styrax Aspen's POV

* * *

Buzzing, buzzing. I run fast not worrying if my brother is keeping pace or not, my mind has been crazed with fear. Fear of everything. I hear the screams of Cypress behind me and to the side of me. Everywhere.

I know I can't outrun them and panic begins to assault my mental defenses. A sharp stinging pain bleeds on my neck. I swat at the large wasp flying right at the base of my skull. My fingers catch its fast moving body and I pull it in front of me. I squish the insect in a tight fist.

Cypress runs through the trees with a swarm of Tracker Jackers attacking her. She falls to the ground and the Tracker Jackers sting her, leaving their stingers in her bloated body. A few of the wasps strike at me too leaving sharp pains stabbing through the back of my skull and my arm.

Rationality fleas me, just like the wasps traveling back to their wicked little nest.

The surreal experience is just as frightening every time. Nearly everyone has been stung at one point or another and I am no exception. The ground below me bends into a V and I loose my balance. I crawl towards Cypress up the edge of the steep incline. I grab her body, hoping to bring it to safety back to the district but her flesh melts and covers my hand with the gooey substance.

I try to shake it off, but the slime has its sharp teeth stuck in my skin.

I scream louder. The shrinking part of my rational mind thinks that maybe someone will hear. But nobody will.

I've only been stung twice, it was Cypress that they targeted when we started chopping down the tree, she gave the first stroke. I search for the plant that will help diminish the duration of the hallucinations.

The deep green plant has many leaves on it and I grab a handful and stuff them into my mouth, I chew as quickly as I dare turning the green leaves into a mush. The leaves are stringy and catch at my teeth. The stands cut into my mouth and I spit the glob out onto my hand the green particles covered with blood.

My hands are shaking and I'm trying to keep my grip on reality but the Tracker Jacker venom is assaulting my carefully prepared mental defenses.

I place the healing glob on my arm where the nearest TJ sting is just as my hand bursts into flame. The power of the stings from the wasps is amazing, I can feel every bit of heat and biting pain as if my hand really were on fire. But it sure is difficult to doubt it when all my senses tell me that what's happening is real.

I scream as I try to wipe the flames off with my bare hand. It sticks to my palm and burns deeper into my skin. I fall to the ground and roll, trying to remove the fire but it spreads further.

My back is speared by a tree's roots that has come alive, writhing with worms. The visions begin to fade, but only slightly. I know that the venom is starting to be leeched out by the leaves not all of it, but some.

This plant was made accidentally, I'm not sure how, but then again I can't get my brain to think that it isn't on fire. The flames flicker down and die out, as if they were real flames. I look at my fingers, white bone is sparkling through the red a swollen flesh.

The leaves are leaching out the venom and will dull the intensity of the hallucinations and the frequency at which they appear, but unfortunately the resulting hallucinations tend to project our thoughts, more preferred to the terrifying visions that the normal poison does but it does tend to last a bit longer.

My flesh begins to knit itself back together as my brain realizes that it was all fake. This is a common thing that happens when we use the leaves to break the hallucinations. The chemicals that give the leaves their ability to destroy the extreme hallucinations, take the power of the poison and use its effects to make it seem like I am being put back together.

When I feel that I am for the most part cleared of the venom, I stand up. The world spins around me and I lean up against a tree, getting sap all over my jacket.

I need to find my brother, chances are he got stung at least once, but even once can be deadly to the wrong people. I grab some more leaves from the bush I got mine from and chew them as I walk.

I need to find him. He isn't going to go anywhere with the hallucinations to contend with. I can feel the leaves clearing my mind and I try to keep my thoughts from going astray, one of the side effects of having your tracker jacker sting being fixed up super fast.

I walk into a clearing and see the skeletal body. It's been picked clean by something with scraps of my brothers clothes scattered around the opening. His skull has small holes in it, making it look like worms have dug holes through his brain.

"No," I whisper to myself, the tracker jacker venom is still in my system, so I can't know what's real and what isn't. Tears begin to fall down my face thick and fast. I grab his skeletal shoulder and feel it, warm in the sun.

The situation seems too happy with the slight breeze and the warm sun. Rain would be better. I can't believe I'm thinking about the weather when I'm holding my dead brothers body in my arms. Something cold and wet lands on the top of my head and I look up, my tears blurring my vision.

Black clouds are rolling across the sky quickly. A drop of rain lands on my nose. Water begins to fall more frequently and it is soon coming down in torrents.

A brilliant flash of lightning lights up the black sky and ground. During the flash of light I can clearly see into his eye socket and a pair or red eyes look back. I pull back instinctively.

An oily black snake slithers out of the eye socket and hisses sharply at me. I freeze, not quite sure what to do since we hardly ever see snakes. Another brilliant flash of lightning and another snake slithers from the eye socket. A third flash and yet another snake.

I hesitantly take a step backwards, my eyes never leaving the black vipers. The left snake whips towards me moving so fast my eyes can't track it, just a blur of black. I sidestep just as a bolt of lightning strikes the skeletal body of my brother.

His bones shine red like coals before vaporizing. The other two black snakes are hit by the electrical bolt and glow a bright blue. The flash dies down but the snakes are unharmed, and agitated.

A searing pain bursts to life in my calf, I look down to see the snake it's drawing its fangs from my flesh. The rest of the snakes react as if on a signal, shadows on the grass as they race towards me.

I kick away the snake that was biting my calf and the other two swarm me. One bites my ankle and I can feel the flesh disintegrating and melting over the bone. I swat at the snake but its spits a green fluid from its mouth and my palm begins to burn. I look in horror as the poison eats through my skin and muscle as it moves around my bones then drips out the bottom of my hand.

My ankle breaks sending a new wave of pain through my leg. I hit the ground solidly and the snakes swarm over me. I scream as the snakes spit on and bite me.

Everywhere the acid hits me my skin melts. Small barbs tear wherever my skin hasn't been damaged as the snakes run along my body. A snake runs past my face and I grab its head. It spits but I clench tighter and twist the head until its just a bloody stump in my shaking hand.

Some acid gets in my eye and instantly blinds me. I throw the dead snake away and touch my eye socket. My finger slides into a pool of acid that used to be my eye and I can hear the bone sizzling.

I scream and the other two snakes continue to kill me. I try to grab another snake but it evades my grasp and it bites my ear. The acid from the fangs almost instantly dissolves the fragile tissue. I'm deaf and my one good eye is almost blind.

A snake slithers over my head and spits a solid stream as it slides over me. The pool of acid eats through my head and makes its way into my brain. They continue to swarm over me spitting and biting anywhere that there is still flesh until I'm just a skeleton lying on the ground.

I'm alerted by the sensation of one of the snakes slithering through my rib cage and across my spine. Slowly I raise myself of the ground and look at the bright sun above me.

I blink my eyes and look at the trees around me. I raise me hands to my face and see the skin stretched across my fragile frame. It was all the venom of the TJ's the visions are bad.

My mind must have been on a hunger games a few years ago where the boy from our district got killed by the acid breathing snakes that lived inside the skulls of dead animals since that's what I just got attacked by.

I shake my head trying to eject the memories of what has just happened. I look around at the sky, only a few clouds with no sign of rain. I stand shakily and continue to search for my brother.

* * *

Miles McCallen's POV

* * *

I pull on my light green shirt, pretty much like everything else we own. The fibers of the silk shirt slide over my muscles. Today's the day! I think cheerfully. Today I can finally get my dream of going to the Capitol. Not the way most people think of going to the Capitol, I just want to be part of something bigger than District Seven.

_Right, bigger than District Seven_, I snicker at my thought District Seven is my world. The cloth that I'm wearing on my back is the single most expensive thing that I own. That's another reason why I'll be volunteering today, the money will benefit us immensely. Us and the rest of the district.

Here in little old District Seven we barely scrape by, I don't want to live my whole life like this, barely with enough to eat and with my drunk of a father spending all our hard earned money on the alcohol that he lives on.

If I win I can benefit him too. I look at myself in a window, trying to get a good look at myself, but I fail horribly. No matter, I'll be in the hands of the stylist soon enough and they won't let me look ugly in the games. Their job depends on it.

If I had enough money I could just go work in the Capitol. I know several people that would like to fillet me if they heard me utter those words aloud. Of course most people want to fillet me anyway.

There is no food in the kitchen, there hardly ever is. My brothers and sisters are all ready and waiting silently for me to escort them to the reaping today.

"Come on," I say kindly. The younger ones hold hands as we exit our home.

The air has a cold breeze wafting through the trees.

Our house is out in the middle of nowhere surrounded by trees, mostly pines. District Seven is a large place and we live pretty far away from the district square.

We head in the general direction of the train station where they will move us to the district square. This is the only day it's free, reaping day. Otherwise its only used for the transport of lumber to the Capitol.

The train station is an old rundown building with a single storage train that the few of us that live out here are lining up to ride to the district. Our father went up yesterday night but he spends most of his time there anyway so that isn't much of a worry.

Sitting in front of the old train engine is a table with three peacekeepers. We walk up to them and they stick a needle into our finger then analyze the blood before letting us onto the train.

I wait patiently for my siblings to board the train then find a place to sit the six of us. There are about fifteen more that board the train, some with their mothers singing softly trying to calm their troubled hearts.

I have to be strong, there is no mother to coo softly to my siblings, I have to be strong for them. The train lurches forward and then stops, then lurches again and gains the momentum it needs to continue.

The train is rocky and feels like it might come apart at any minute, my youngest sister holds tightly onto me and pushes her face into my shirt. I stroke her hair softly.

The train runs for about thirty minutes and with a final lurch stops at the district square. I feel like my teeth have been rattled out of their places and when I stand up it takes me a minute to adjust.

Before they let us off the train they take another sample of the blood of my finger, just to make sure I'm still me. We join the crowd as we walk to district square and again they take a sample of our blood.

The rest of the district silently files in, everyone hoping that they won't have to volunteer. The bright and happy as always Arbor Rhizo is bouncing along the stage smiling and waving to the silent district. She has her annual forest green sweater on and her face is decorated with green jewels.

Arbor has a watch on flicker with flames, she looks at it with eager eyes, waiting for the reaping to start. The one time a year that she's a big shot begins at the toll of the bell. The justice building bell tolls and she finishes before the last bong ends.

"Welcome District Seven," she announces and jumps right into the reaping procedure, "I don't want to to waste any necessary time so lets get down to business. Mayor Gymno, will you please," she says. Mayor Gymno is an old balding man with a single tuft of solid grey hair on his head.

He starts in his dreary and monotonous voice and everyone zones him out. Arbor is too anxious for the reaping to begin.

"Thanks Mayor Gymno," she says just as he reads off Johanna Masons name. She's sitting on her seat with her legs crossed and a vicious glare on her face directed at Arbor.

Mayor Gymno seems a little startled by the quick end to his part in the reaping. "Now lets begin the volunteering," she raps off quickly, "it is strictly volunteers only this year. Lets begin with the boys first so the girls can decide whether or not they want to volunteer," she says. I feel like her next words are directed at me but its more of a challenge of bravery, "If any of you have the courage to come forth and represent the district please do so,"

The crowd around me shifts uncertainly and no one is expecting me to throw my hand into the air. Under normal circumstances I wouldn't volunteer, but I need to make a difference. Sure volunteering at a normal reaping will save one person, but volunteering here will save twenty four. "I volunteer,"

I walk to the stage amid pointing and murmurs. "Finally he's going away!" Someone in the crowd yells triumphantly. I keep walking, not heeding their words they will see soon enough that I need to do this. I mount the stage and approach the microphone.

"My name is Miles McCallen," I say, "and at least I had the courage to stand up for us. Mark my words though I will come back and bring honor to this rotting log of a district-" I'm about to go on but Arbor wrenches the mic from in front of me. That's fortunate for me since I'm dising on my district in front of the whole nation, that probably won't help me much.

"Thank you for that, um.." She has forgotten my name already, I'm tempted to let her flounder.

"Miles," I supply.

"Thank you Miles," she says, "but we are not to the interviews quite yet," she giggles and actually gets a few from the district square, "I've never had anyone so excited for the games before, I'm sure you'll be fun to watch," she says.

"Halfway done, lets see if we can have another eager tribute for this years games, ladies who from amongst you would like to be a part of these noble games," she asks. _Did she just call the games noble? No the games are not noble, what I did could have been called noble._

I'm surprised, and so is Arbor, when someone one of the girls raises her hand. She does it hesitantly at first but ends with it thrust into the air firmly.

"We'll isn't District Seven feeling a little anxious this year, young lady will you come up to the stage please. The girl stands there confused at what Arbor said. "Come to the front," she says a bit more firmly. The girl looks around her, as if just realizing that she is the only one with her hand in the air. She looks startled and walks as if she's being jerked by a string. Her mouth is open in a silent scream.

She walks down the center aisle in her jerky fashion and onto the stage, her eyes look slightly crazed, that's when I notice the semi-deflated lump on her arms about the size of an apple. Tracker Jackers.

* * *

Styrax Aspen's POV

* * *

I pull oak along behind me, which is pretty amazing all by itself, he shouldn't be able to walk considering the placement of his stings. He has one right under his kneecap and the swelling almost locks his leg.

I try to keep my thoughts clear, I don't want anything unexpected happening, but we do have to be down to the square now otherwise the punishments will be much greater than Tracker Jacker stings.

The woods come to an abrupt end when the trees reach the road. I see the district square ahead and by the looks of things, the reaping is almost ready to begin.

I pull Oak harder and we reach the sign in table just before the bell tolls.

"Lucky girl, you almost missed it," the peacekeeper pulling my blood says without much compassion.

"Yeah, lucky me," I reply the woman analyzes my blood with a scanner.

"You have venom in your system," she says informatively.

"I know," I say

"You might want to check on that," she says knowing that nobody in District Seven could afford such Capitol-exclusive treatments. I walk into the district square and Oak stumbles off to find a spot in his section.

I find a spot also and Arbor starts off, I can't quite decipher what she's saying but the mayor gets up and reads the Treaty of Treason. The reaping starts and a boy raises his hand and goes to the front.

My ears are pounding and everything seems to be moving too fast. I can't quite follow what's being said but people around me laugh. The blood coursing through my ears quiets down and I can actually hear what's happening next.

"Ladies this half of the reaping will be different at this point, instead of volunteering by raising your hand, this time the last one to raise their hand will be this years tribute," I don't remember anything like that being said in the Quell announcment. "So on the count of three whoever doesn't have their hand in the air will be tribute," I'm baffled at this turn of event, I can move my hand pretty fast so I'm pretty sure wont be in this year.

"One... Two... Three," at the sound of three I hesitate and look around me making sure that I'm not hearing things, but everyone else is throwing their hands into the air, so I thrust mine up strongly.

"Well isn't District Seven feeling a little anxious this year," Arbor says. I'm confused, she said to raise our hands if we didn't want to be in the games. I look around me to see the stares of everyone else. They're looking at me with understanding in their eyes after they finish looking at the deflated Tracker Jacker sting.

"Come to the front," Arbor says swiftly. I stand in place not wanting to accept that I just made the worst possible decision in my life. Something wet touches my arm and I see a clear liquid splashing on it.

All sensation vanishes form the arm and a peacekeeper on the stage pulls a gun to his shoulder. A flash of smoke and the harpoon stickes through my arm. I look down at it, not feeling a thing and the harpoon begins to reel me in like a fish.

I try to resist but it jerks me forward and into the center aisle. I try to scream protests but my mouth doesn't make a sound when I open it. I'm pulled forward sharply and I try to pull back but the peacekeeper has a pull stronger than I can resist.

I walk up the stairs in order to not be pulled over the railing. He comes to me and rips the hook out of my skin and splashes something on it, the skin heals and I can feel my throat loosing.

"Tell us your name please," Arbor tells me.

"Speak," the peacekeeper behind me says whilst pushing a knife into my back. P

"I'm Styrax Aspen," I reply.

"Any relation to the Quaking Aspens?" She asks and laughs at her joke. I can feel the Tracker Jacker venom suppressing my thought process, making it difficult for me to think. Instead of answering I just stare dumbly.

"Maybe not then," Arbor says. The anthem begins to play and I shake hands with the boy tribute from our district. His hand is strong and it feels like its crushing my bones, but that might just be the venom.

Johanna Mason comes around and shakes our hand, Blight follows and I shake his hand.

"You feeling alright?" He asks me.

"No," I reply honestly.

"I'll talk to you later ok," he says. I nod, not sure of what else to do. The

anthem comes to an end and we are ushered into the Justice Building.

p

* * *

**Thanks for reading, sorry CallietheCareer if you had tributes for me, but I just couldn't wait any longer.**

**Styrax's POV might be a little challenging to read and disjointed, but isn't that what Tracker Jacker venom does to you?**

**Tell me what you think in a review.**


	11. District Eight

**Hello, I would just like to apologize in advance for a late update, I will be unable to write for the next three weeks so District Nine will be a longer update.**

**hang through the Reapings, they are the long part I have an idea to make the Capitol really fast and then we are in the games :)**

**thanks to Demented-Kawaii-Kitten for both tributes although I lost half of Jays tributes form so I just filled in blanks to make it flow right. Some action in this chapter so enjoy.**

* * *

_ "She is the first to fall, the first of us to fall upon this barricade... She will not die in vain, she will not be betrayed"_

_—Enjloras, Night of Anguish_

Jesse Weft's POV

* * *

Aden gestures for us to move faster. "Hurry, hurry they could be here any minute," he tells us in a soft whisper. I'm carrying a black sack over my shoulder, filled with peacekeeper uniforms and some cans of food. Aden has rifles in his.

Lacey is breathing hard at his side. The factory is dark, nearly black but we walk these halls everyday so we know when to turn and where to go. We reach an intersection and hear boots coming towards us.

"Left, left," Aden whispers the sound carries and I'm sure that the upcoming peacekeepers can hear it. Instead of turning left we go down the right hall and into a room. The room has several long looms. Aden keeps the door ajar just a crack to make sure that we aren't being followed. Everyone is breathing as softly as we can, trying not to be found.

"They went this way," one of the peacekeepers say and we hear their boots echo as they go in the opposite direction.

"Lets move," Aden says and we rush silently out the door.

"Camera," someone whispers softly, I look around for the blinking diode. I find it and drop my bag softly, then pull out my knife and smash the camera with the handle. The frame stays up but the glass clatters musically against the ground.

"Probably not the smartest move Jay," Aden tells me. I shrug.

"It didn't see me,"

"Nevertheless they know where we are now, lets move," he says. We run down the hall that the peacekeepers came from and towards the front entrance of the factory.

"Halt!" A voice sounds form behind us. We run harder and a gunshot cracks the silence. The bullet whizzes past us, the peacekeeper can't see us. Shooting in the dark though gives us a good chance to be hit, I run faster but the group is pulling ahead of me.

"Slow down," I whisper. Aden stops and lets me catch up.

"Don't run so slow," he whispers at me. The gun cracks and Lacey screams.

"No more rest we go NOW. Lacey can you run?" Her answer is a garbled noise but she stands up and we start running, slower than before but at least were moving.

"I got one of them with a poison," the shooting peacekeeper yells and the noise of peacekeeper boots echoes down the halls. The sound of gunfire is more frequent and we duck down our heads whenever there is a blast.

Lacey stumbles and falls, I reach down to grab her hand and she looks at me. Her face is pale and she has her hand at her side where blood is seeping from the bullet wound.

"Go... Go... without... Me," she gets out.

"No we go together," I tell her and lift her arm around my shoulder. She does her best to keep moving but she's loosing blood a a fast rate plus the bullet was poisoned. Aden grabs her other arm and we carry her down the corridor.

Flashlight beams are shining down the hall but we keep moving. We are so close to the exit. Lacey stumbles again and becomes limp. I keep hold of her and so does Aden but her head is lolling to one side.

"Don't let her go," Aden tells me.

"I won't," I shoot back at him.

More shots behind us, the rest of our group has moved ahead of us, just as they were instructed should we fall behind.

"Go... Leave... Me," Lacey tells us hoarsely.

"Won't happen girl," Aden tells her sharply, we rebels have to band together.

"You...Get... Caught," she says through waves of pain.

"She's right Aden," I tell him, "she's not gonna live if we get her out and-"

"Shut up!" He yells at me fiercely, "I'm not leaving her even if I have to die here with her," the footsteps are getting closer. Lacey starts pushing at us with all the force she can muster.

"Go, Aden I won't give you up, I'll take our secret to the grave,"

"I'm not leaving you," Aden says with tears in his eyes.

"Go, do the right thing, save the district" Lacey says pushing at Aden, he resists but stands up. Lacey's hand falls to the ground and she dies. Just like in the Hunger Games, just like all those other deaths that we were unable to prevent. Just like those, only without the cannon.

"I'll kill them," Aden says with tears in his eyes, he pulls his sack off his back and pulls out a rifle.

"Put the gun down boy," the approaching peacekeeper says. Without hesitation Aden pulls the trigger and shoots the peacekeeper through the brain. Aden cocks and shoots again, and again. A large puddle of blood is collecting on the floor.

"Aden, we need to leave!" I tell him stiffly, not wanting to accept what is happening. Not wanting Lacey to be dead.

"I will kill them all," he says. I don't doubt it, I want to kill every last one of them too.

"Give me a gun," I tell him.

"I knew you'd say that," Aden says with a forced smile. The lights of the hall flip on and the electric current hums softly. I'm glad I have a mask on, otherwise it would be too easy to identify the both of us.

The peacekeepers rush at us and we both hold the rifles to our shoulder and I feel the energizing kick of the gun. A peacekeeper drops to the ground. The reality sinks in as I shoot the peacekeeper down. Lacey is dead. Not wounded and revivable. Dead and irretrievable. Gone.

I advance and shoot round after round of bullets with Aden at my side. They have the good sense to pull out their shields and our bullets make a pinging sound as they connect.

They march forward over their dead comrades as Aden and I unload rounds into their ranks. My gun clicks, signaling the end of that stack of ammunition.

"More ammo," I say he moves to cover me while I dig through the bag of guns, searching for the dwindling amount of ammo in the bag.

We've been switching off like this for about ten minutes, one covers the other while he pulls out more ammo. My hands and eyes search for the shiny bullets. There is one pack left.

"Last one," I say. Aden looks grim while I load the bullets. This box is half empty and only ten bullets remain. The first row of peacekeepers reach us and pull out knives and swords. Weapons that are primitive compared to the standard that most peacekeepers have, but even the peacekeepers here are poor. The guns they were shooting earlier were legendary.

Aden smashes the butt of his gun into the nearest peacekeepers head. I fire into the face of the nearest peacekeeper and he falls backward screaming as his face is torn to shreds. Four... Three... I keep track of the bullets in my gun, I stop firing and Aden's gun clicks. He swears under his breath.

"Knives," he says as he fends off the attacking peacekeeper with his gun. I pull my knife out from my belt and I stab the nearest peacekeeper. They've been holding back, but now that we don't have guns they are flooding towards us. A sword slashes in front of me and I leap back, getting a shallow cut on my side that burns.

I have to remind myself that this isn't a silly school fight, I could end up as dead as Lacey. Aden slashes and dodges knives with flexibility. These peacekeepers are out of training, they haven't had anyone give this much resistance.

My mind is thinking fast, it always thinks quickly in a fight. A peacekeepers muscled arm begins to make a hacking motion and I move before the blade falls. Im inside his defense and I stab him through the heart. My knife gets some resistance as it moves through the extra protection but my strike was fueled with rage so it hits its intended target.

I lift the sword he was carrying, not my preferred weapon but it has a longer reach than my dagger. I take a peacekeeper across the chest and he falls. A swift motion catches my eyes and I duck as the knife flys over my head.

Blaring alarms and flashing red lights start up. "Lets fly Jay," Aden yells. I thrust the sword and leave it in the peacekeepers gut, then I retreat with Aden. Gas made visible by the flashing red lights begins to rise from the floor. I hold my breath and run harder. Sunlight filters through the window on the door.

Aden grabs the door handle but its locked. My eyes are tearing up from the gas in the air and my lungs are begging for oxygen, but I don't chance a breath. Aden fumbles with the key card and slides it into the slot. The scanner reads the card and a green light shines through the gas in the air.

Aden pushes the door open I run through it, pushing Aden in front of me. I take a deep breath of air mixed with rain after the door slams shut. Aden has a forced smile on his face.

"Not bad for a morning raid," he says and then starts crying.

Coleen Reyna's POV

* * *

"Remember we close early today," the baker says from over the counter as I come in and sit on one of the roughly hewn tables.

"I know," I say quietly.

"Not sure why your hangin' 'round here at this time," he says to me while he bags a loaf of bread for the lady at the counter, "I'd think you'd be wantin' to spend it with that family of yours,"

The lady places the money on the counter and walks out the front door into the torrent of rain. I don't respond, instead I gaze at the shelves of flour and other supplies that he sells. I look at the front window and see the gorgeous cakes that he produces.

I jump when the baker slams his hand onto the table in a tight fist. "Girl, I am sorry for whatever reason you have to be here but I don't want you mopin' about in my shop, it drives away customers. So buy somethin' or leave,"

I stand from the table shakily and walk out the door into the pounding rain. As the door closes I can hear the baker mutter something under his breath. I like the smell of the bread he cooks, that's the main reason I come here so often but another reason is that I get to hear the news that costumes bring into his shop.

All the news about the Rebels and plans for a potential attack on the peacekeepers, but more and more commonly is the rumor of a thriving, District thirteen. That's nonsense though, they show us all the time that there is no District thirteen, the rubble still smoking from the bombs dropped over the District seventy-five years ago. But this very piece of film is what gave ground to the possibility. The mockingjay that flies near the corner of the film.

Outside of the bakery rain is falling thick and fast. A distant rumble of thunder sounds here and there as I walk towards my house. I pass the factory I work at and hear alarms blaring inside. I'm sure it was Aden and his band of rebels, they probably struck early and by now, are long gone.

My house is empty as it normally is. I find my reaping dress in the dusty old box that we keep our Hunger Games items. We only opened it once a year. The dress is old and the white material is starting to look grey.

It has a few holes in it but a flash of a needle later I have it mended. I open up my door and see that the rain has gotten only worse and a giant black blanket of thunder clouds is rolling in. Lightning flashes above me and instead of thunder a hover-plane with the Capitol seal appears.

The plane circles around and finally lands near the district square. I smile but it instantly curls downwards. A plane means more peacekeepers and probably a brutal punishment to the whole district.

The falling rain is depressing. The whole district seems oddly quite even as more join me as I walk to the place where nightmares start. More and more people walk with the rain splattering against the paving stone that covers the entire district. It all came from outside the district from a giant ravine that spans more than a hundred feet and no one is sure how deep it it, at least that's what they teach at school.

The district square looks even more menacing than normal with the backlight of hastily put up electric lights. The peacekeepers at the check-in table have a patch with the seal of District Two on their shoulder. These must be the new import of soldiers.

They look scarier than normal too, with their helmets covering their faces to protect from the rain. They look like aliens, with no skin showing only a white suit and a black mask covering their faces.

One peacekeeper silently extends his hand and grabs my wrist roughly then jabs the needle under my skin. He takes some blood and scans it.

"Your good to go," he tells me. I walk past the tables they have set up. I'm in the sixteens section mingled with the rest of the others. Silk is on the stage complaining to Cecelia about the rain.

"Silk if you want to try to change the weather then fine by me, just quite telling me that it will ruin your video," Silk sits down on the wet metal chair with her thick white wig dripping into her face.

I smile at this, the Capitol is all about looks and here we are on live television. Silk whispers something to Cecelia who immediately bites back with "No one cares about your hair!" Cecelia has the reputation of being kind but Silk must be quite obnoxious if Cecelia is getting upset.

"Don't worry Silk, I still think you look nice," Woof says with a laugh. Silk puts her face in her hands and starts sobbing.

"Now Silk, Woof didn't mean it like that," Cecelia says patting Silk on the back and glares at Woof. Woof is trying not to laugh, but failing. Cecelia whispers to Silk and gets her to look up again. The clock tower strikes the allotted time but Silk makes no gesture of moving.

I look for the Mayor but I can't see him anywhere. I heard that he was sick but surely not bad enough to miss the reaping. Five minutes pass before Silk makes a move to the mic.

It's turned on and she starts the reaping. "Lets start by excusing Mayor Cirf and his wife, they have come down with a particularly terrible disease and are unable to attend.

"So in place of the Treaty of Treason we will be watching a special film from the Capitol," A white screen slides out of the stage and the majority of the screens are dominated by the pile of skulls that start off the video.

"War, terrible war..." The voice over in the video is almost identical to the written one that the mayor reads but the reaping is so boring that it keeps my attention. "This is how we safeguard our future," the film ends.

"Great now, lets get on with the Reaping, I don't like to stand out here in the rain and you all know the procedure so lets get a girl to volunteer quickly," Her words cause all of us girls to avoid eye contact.

I make excuses as to why I don't need to volunteer since my normal hope-and-pray-I'm-not-chosen attitude isn't beneficial for this quell. My mind turns to my family and how they need me here to help them. We don't have much, just barely enough to scrape by. Of course they could probably get by without me.

"Do I need to repeat myself?" Silk asks, "I don't like being in the rain so lets get the reaping over with, someone volunteer,"

A horrible thought comes to mind. What if I volunteer. I'm not needed around the house as much as the others, my family can still get by without me since my older sister brings back the most food and money.

My hand begins to move without me thinking and I'm volunteering. A brilliant flash of lightning lights up the sky and a boom of thunder seems to deafen me since there is no noise afterward. My eyes seek out Dusty, my younger brother, and latch onto him. The reality of what's happening hits him with full force and he begins sobbing.

"Come to the stage please," Silk says politely. I don't move I'm in shock I didn't think I was volunteering, but a part of me knew I would when Snow announced the Quell. A squad of Peacekeepers pushes through the crowd towards me. My mind is paralyzed, something that doesn't happen very often. He grabs my shoulder roughly and starts pushing me towards the stage.

Jesse Weft's POV

* * *

Anger fills me when the girl volunteers. The thin line of my sword wound flares and have to clutch my side to stop the burning. I push away from Aden.

"Jay, what the heck are you doing," he says furiously.

"The right thing," I say and push further away.

"Jay, get back in formation," he barks. Normally I would snap back to his side like a loyal dog but not this time.

"It's what Lacey would want," I say. I've already been unable to save one person from death today, I won't abandon the district in its moment of need.

"Jay, never mention Lacey again," Aden growls. Im not listening to him my only focus is on this girl that volunteered and the peacekeepers are being none too gentle with her.

"Get your hands off her," I yell, shattering the relative silence of the falling rain.

"Boy get back in your place," a peacekeeper says, pointing at me. I don't acknowledge the comment and keep moving forward. I wipe rain from my mouth and begin reaching for my knife.

The rage I felt when Lacey died returns when I grab the nearest peacekeepers shoulder and duck as he turns around and punches at me. His companion pulls out a pistol and I hit the barrel away before he can shoot me.

A powerful punch sends me to the ground and the pressure of a boot is on the side of my face. My only escape option comes to mind, "I volunteer," I say. They have to have a volunteer tribute for these games so I might as well be it. "I volunteer," I say again a bit louder when I feel the cold barrel of the gun pressed against my temple and the click that activates the bullet.

This peacekeeper is from District Two, he understands the rules of volunteering, once your a tribute your practice invincible until the arena, no one can touch you.

He growls in my ear. "I'll be watching the screens eagerly for your death," he hisses at me before stepping off. A sharp kick in the ribs is all I get before he drags me to my feet.

The girl is standing appalled and Silk is looking confused. "I volunteer," I say with a smile directed past the peacekeepers and to my fellow tribute.

"I don't believe that I've asked for male volunteers yet," Silk says, "but I don't like standing in the rain so well have the both of you, come to the front,"

The peacekeepers grab my shoulders and I slap them off. "Don't touch me," I growl menacingly, "or the girl," they form a ring around us and we walk to the stage.

I pass one of the district peacekeepers on the way here and deliberately scratch at my side and reveal the sword wound on my side. Understanding fills his eyes and I grin coldly. The peacekeeper clenches his fist and looks like he would love to punch me right now. Which he probably would if I wasn't a tribute.

"What excitement from a previously thought dead district," Silk says after we come to the stage. "Mind sharing your names with us," she says.

"Coleen Reyna," Coleen says.

"Jay Weft," I say. Making sure all the peacekeepers hear the word 'Jay'. They all know that the rebel group is named 'JabberJay' with 'lets fly Jay' being Aden's way of telling us its time to leave. I smile at the looks I get from the peacekeepers.

"Great, District Eight is now complete, shake hands please," Silk instructs. I grip Coleen's hand trying to put a feeling of comfort into it. Cecelia shakes my hand next.

"I'm not sure what your game is, but your lucky that you get this as your punishment instead of what they would like to do to you,"

"Lucky me," I say

"I'm serious Jay, the rest of your life would likely be spent in the Capitol dungeons and endless torture followed by servitude as an Avox, but Silk let you have this instead. I'll try to help you out, but I don't think your coming back to District Eight," she moves on to Coleen and Woof pats my back firmly.

"I love it," he says flamboyantly, "you will make a great death this year!" He says. I laugh lightly. "I'll see you soon then," he tells me and moves to Coleen and hugs her. "You might be worth something too, hopefully we can work with that,"

The anthem plays and Cecelia and Woof sit down. "Thanks for the warm welcome-" a bolt of lightning strikes a tall radio tower and sparks fall to the street below. Startled cries erupt from the twelve and thirteen-year-olds and Silk seems startled.

"The reaping is over, return to your homes and get out of the rain," Silk says swiftly and pulls us into the Justice building muttering. "Glad that's over,"

"Me too," I say.

* * *

**Thanks for reading and please review, I like hearing what you guys think and it helps me make the next chapter better. **

**Also feel free to PM me and ask me when the next chapter will be uploaded. I tend to be lazy and forget about things and when I hear from you guys that gives me inspiration.**

**also remember that I won't be around for the next three weeks I'll be back the beginning of July and hope to get the next chapter up quickly. Thanks for the support**

**—Ares the Gamemaker**


	12. District Nine

**Hello again, I know its been a long time so I hope you enjoy this chapter. We're almost to the Capitol and from there I'm hoping to make the chapters go by fairly fast.**

**thanks for being patient with me.**

**Farrow is my tribute and Miri is POMforever's tribute.**

* * *

_"No offense. Please reflect. Your intentions may not be correct!"_

_Monsieur and Madame Thénardier, Waltz of Treachery_

Farrow Tare's POV

* * *

I open my eyes with a start. I feel the slight wave of relief wash over me as the dream passes. The relief is only brief since the nightmare was about today. My fingers stroke the rough fibers of my blanket gently. A fly buzzes near my shuttered window, its vibrating wings annoying my sharp ears.

My eyes gather enough light to be able to make out all the details in my dark room. I hear footsteps outside my door but don't move. L'eau stands quietly outside my door, waiting for me to signal to her that I'm ready to have company.

I slide out of the bed and my feet touch to planks sending waves of information to my brain. I try to ignore it, that's what Maize always tells me to do. I can almost hear his voice telling me: _If you can learn to ignore most of it you can deal with the excess and use it to your advantage._ I'm not even quite sure what it all means but I'm pretty sure that its support for going into the Games.

I sit on the edge of my bed and stare at the floor, so many imperfection in the splintered boards. An ant crawls out from between the planks in search of food.

"I'm ready," I say hoarsely.

The door opens and the wave of cool air hits me. I shiver even though heat radiates from my window.

"Glad to see your up," L'eau says as she enters, "today's the day,"

Yes today is the day. Reaping day. No one know my intentions, no one will be able to foresee my action, not even Maize and all his brilliance. I cycle through all the information that my ears have collected over the past few months. All the different ways to fight, to hunt, to survive. To kill.

I won't have any trouble volunteering before anyone else today, no sane person ever would. I chuckle darkly, that's why I'm perfect for the job.

"Farrow, its time for the Reaping," her voice is pained and I know exactly why. Last year the reaping scared me so bad I couldn't sleep for the following week. I remember the scream of fear the girl from our district let out as the peacekeepers dragged her to the stage. The memory of watching the boy from our district trying to kill one of the victors from last year comes back in full force. I flinch as I watch the knife lodge in his back and he dies with hardly a sound.

While I've been day dreaming L'eau has been dressing me in the cleanest clothes I own: a pair of homespun trousers and a clean shirt. The pants are itchy.

L'eau speaks, "I know you don't like this but-" she trails off as she pulls out a black strip of cloth. I hate that piece of fabric more than anything else. I glower as if doing so will make it disappear. It makes it worse that I know that I need to wear it whenever I go outside.

My oversensitive eyes burn painfully whenever they're exposed to sunlight. When I was about six I just stared the sun and tried to blind myself. My head felt ready to burst and my vision was black. I had stared for an extra few minutes just to be sure my vision was permanently damaged. After I looked away I felt great without the abundance of excess information, but within a few minutes my sight returned.

The memory jumps through my brain flooding my eyes with pain from the memory. "Are you ok?" L'eau asks.

"No," I reply curtly. She nods. I'm never ok, and my family has to deal with me. If I can win the Hunger Games we won't have to live off of scratch, I could live next to Maize and never have to do anything again.

L'eau puts a hand on my shoulder and I feel the pulse of her veins as her heart pumps blood through vessels and arteries. Vessels and arteries that if cut in a certain place would cause her to bleed to death in under two minutes.

She caresses my shoulder gently but I shake the hand off, "Sorry," she says softly. She takes my hand and pulls my face so I'm looking into her eyes. The worn calluses are rough and only remind me of our current living conditions.

Her eyes aren't filled with the usual kind look, but instead with determination.

"Farrow, the reaping is soon and we have to leave. I won't be near you I have to be somewhere else but I want you to try your best to ignore everything going on and keep your head down," I freeze wondering how she figured out my plan so quickly. I don't say anything. "Farrow, please listen to me," I nod slightly, "don't do anything stupid, that's how people get killed,"

Part of my brain desperately wants to listen and obey her words, but the survival part of my brain takes this as advice for the upcoming games. I nod in agreement. "Thank you," she hugs me tightly and I listen to her heartbeat, its quicker than norma. She is nervous for the reaping.

She wraps the silk cloth around my head, it would be impossible for a normal person to see more than shadow when looking through this, but I am very far from normal. She looks at me and sighs, then leads me from the room.

Most of the district thinks I'm blind since I never go outside without this bit of cloth covering my eyes. My mother left a long time ago and is probably trying to find work.

The sun bakes down on me and my clothes making my skin slick with sweat. We walk hand in hand. I try to make the most of this since I won't be coming back for a month or however long the games last.

"Farrow," the voice reaches my ears softly.

"Stop," I saw quietly.

"What is it?" L'eau asks, intrigued that I started a conversation without her prodding.

"Maize," I reply. I know he's behind us but not too close. He's not moving.

"I don't see him anywhere," L'eau says.

"Around the corner, come alone," Maize says. I turn towards the direction of the voice and see the indicated corner about ten paces away. I point at the corner.

"What does he want?" She asks me.

"Me to go alone," I tell her.

"Fine, but I am not leaving this spot and I won't hesitate in calling the peacekeepers," she say, loud enough for Maize to hear.

"I'll be fast," I say as I run off. She sighs again. Maize's tanned face comes into view along with his brown eyes. He is wearing an overcoat, even though it's broiling. He has clouded glasses sitting at the tip of his nose and a fedora on his head. His long black hair snakes its way down the side of his head.

"Farrow," he whispers.

"I'm here," I reply.

"I know that child, I was just saying your name," I stay silent. "It's reaping day and I don't want your family to be without food for the festivities," he continues. He reaches into the confines of his coat and I hear coins jingling. My heart leaps and Maize can tell. "Just a little something," he says as he pulls out a fancy drawstring bag filled with coins. He opens the lip of the bag that is filled with golden coins that would glint in the sunlight.

"Maize this isn't just a little something," I say.

"Well I have more than enough and you and your family have hardly any," he replies gruffly. "Make sure it gets to your mother or else," he tells me firmly. I nod and leave.

"What did he want?" L'eau asks me. In response I hold out the bag of coins. Her eyes widen and I can see the small formation of tears at the edges. "Is it-" she can't finish but I know what she means and I nod.

I hold it out for her to take but she pushes it back at me, "no you keep it, its your gift," I stuff it into a pocket. "Keep it safe, don't let anyone take it from you," I nod. I'm not intending anyone to get the chance.

Miri Ismail-Pignati's POV

* * *

The fight is short and brutal but there was no way around it. I keep Monique to my back to remove her out of most of the action. Teff spits blood from his mouth. Rye backhands me and pain flares on my cheek as I stumble to the ground.

Spelt grabs Monique and Teff fumbles with a knife then holds it to her throat. "We didn't want any trouble," Teff says shakily. I laugh coldly, my finger tracing the welt mark on my cheek. "I'm serious," he says. Teff is tall and thin as is his group, but since they are eighteen and I'm only fifteen, I don't have a chance of winning this fight.

"We just didn't want anything to happen to the District," Rye says. I regain my feet and look up into his eyes.

"The District wasn't going to be in trouble," I spit at him. I move forward but Teff holds the knife closer to Monique's neck. They're afraid of me even though there are more of them. I stop moving.

"Yeah and why was that," Teff says.

"Someone would have volunteered," I reply.

"Who?" He asks, "You? Me? Spelt? Nobody in District Nine has the courage to volunteer,"

"So what are you doing?" I ask, "giving courage to people?"

"In a way," Spelt says with a sly smile.

"So who's gonna save your skins?" I ask, "Monique can't volunteer for you,"

"We've already taken care of that part, some low life from the grain fields,"

"Set Monique down," I say forcefully.

"We need her to volunteer," Spelt says silkily, "I have a girlfriend that doesn't fancy going to the games, same with Teff and Rye," he pauses and collects his thoughts. "Unless you're willing to volunteer," he says, this idea must strike him as brilliant.

"Yeah, your a good fighter," Teff says, rubbing the bruise forming on his cheek thoughtfully.

"Yeah, Monique won't stand a chance in the games, if you go District Nine at least has a chance of getting the benefits of a victor," Spelt says dropping Monique to the ground. She falls heavily and gasps for breath.

I see where this is going but I'm too late because I'm surrounded. "Your going to volunteer for the quell," Rye says sternly.

"If you don't Monique won't last very long," Spelt says icily making the threat obvious. I have no choice in the matter. Either way one of us dies. Teff hold his knife to Monique's neck.

"Fine," I say harshly.

"Good, glad we were able to avoid all the extra unpleasantries, have a better day," Spelt says and leads the group away. As soon as they disappear I'm at Monique's side.

"Are you ok," I ask probing her ribs for damage.

"You shouldn't have done it," Monique says.

"I had too,"

"No you didn't," she tells me.

"I won't let them kill you,"

"But saving me will leave you dead,"

"I know," I say ending the conversation. I help Monique to her feet and I walk her to my house. This is where we had planned to go before the trio of bullies ambushed us.

I open the heavy door of my house and see my Aunt Sandra sitting away from us at the kitchen table. "There you are darling," she says, "I was getting worried... What happened!?" She asks me, her voice full of shock when she turns and sees the bruise on my face.

"Nothing, nothing," I say softly trying to brush away her concerns.

"This is not nothing," she tells me sternly.

"Lets just not pay attention to it until after the reaping," I say, this seems to soothe her motherly urge to protect me.

"Fine, that reminds me I got you a new reaping dress," she tells me. Monique is ecstatic at the prospect of me having a new dress.

"What does it look like?" She asks quickly. Sandra seems to think this question is directed towards her.

"It's entirely green with dark sparkles on the light green..." She continues to explain the dress but I'm not listening.

"Ok, thanks Sandra," I cut her off, "but I'm fine with just going up to my room and seeing it,"

"Ok darling," she says not phased by my interruption, "just be down before we have to go to the square," I'm halfway up the staircase when she says this, dragging Monique behind me.

"Thanks Mrs. Pignati," Monique's says. I pull her into my room and shut the door. I run to a mirror and look at the purple bruise growing on my temple. It throbs painfully.

"What is it?" Monique asks.

"You would be better off not knowing," I reply. She accepts that. I finish gazing at the discolored skin and turn to my bed. Laying on top of the rosy covers is my green dress. It's all green except for the black jacket and shoes.

"How's the dress?" Monique asks me. In reply I guide her hand to the fabric and let her stroke it. "It's beautiful," she says after a few minutes.

"If only you could see it," I mutter.

"You have no idea how many times I've wished for that," she says with a laugh, although she is serious. I look into her mismatched eyes and see the sadness behind them. "Don't pity me," she says not harshly, but with some force behind the words.

"I'm not, I'm just... thinking,"

"What about?" She inquires.

"Well..." I hesitate to tell her, "if I come back I may be able cure your sight,"

"Miri, don't raise my hopes," she tells me.

"I'm just saying its a possibility,"

"No don't try to win the games for me, just survive and then we can discuss it,"

"Agreed," I say, glad that she took my proposition so well. I slide out of my current clothes and switch into the green dress. The hem brushes against my knee. "I'm ready would you like to go down?" I leave the choice to her since she has so few opportunities to make them.

She pauses before responding, "yes lets go," I open the door and we head down the stairs where my aunt barrages me with compliments that I numbly accept. She ushers us out the door and down the street to the district square.

Farrow Tare's POV

* * *

The bag of coins rattles in my pocket and I'm afraid someone will hear them. The pinpoint of pain lances through my nerves as the peacekeeper extracts blood from my hand.

I smell the metal of the coins, piercing through the scent of the bag. I have to remind myself that others can't smell things like I can. Footsteps sound against the paving stones and the sun burns the nape of my neck.

"Ok Farrow, I'm going off now, find a good place to stay and keep your head down," L'eau instructs me. I nod and move away from her, keeping my head down and moving slowly, trying to look like I'm blind. Eventually someone comes and grabs my arm without saying a word.

I hate the feel of his arm against mine but I'm grateful that someone came since it sustains my desired image. I hate the feeling of needing someone else. I mutter the thanks that L'eau has forced me to practice so that I can receive more help and not draw suspicion.

"Here you are," my escort says and leaves me in the section. There's a group from town that feels bad for me so they establish a person everyday to help me, none of them like the task.

"There it's done," the boy says a little farther away.

"Good work," another voice says. I hear the sound of a pat on the back and coins exchanging hands. I allow one of my hands to stray to that pocket and make sure that the bag is still there.

"We have three minutes," Demeter Hanse says to the mayor from on stage. Even though I'm at the back of the square I still can listen in on their conversation, along with a flurry of others. I close my eyes and breath, trying to block out all the noises. The sound dims slightly. In the distance I hear the quite hum of Ceres's motorbike as he rides through the district.

The buzzing sound slowly gets louder and I hear the crack of the whip. My back flares with pain as imaginary lashes strike me. I force those thoughts from my mind and the pain vanishes.

"Into formation!" He calls. Ceres has the delusion that he runs a peacekeeper training camp and usually treats us as such. Unfortunately he uses his whip liberally and unless we do as he says it tends to fall on us.

I straighten my back and stand straighter as Ceres enters on his 'silent' motorbike. He calls it silent since normal people can't hear the buzz it makes. The whip cracks above our heads as he drives to the stage at the front. He jumps off it and one of his peacekeepers catches it as it rolls forward.

"Now this years a little different," he says, pacing up the center aisle. "It's not our normal Hunger Games Reaping," he continues. "This year is on a strict volunteer basis, now District Nine must be well represented so no chickening out," he says brandishing his whip fiercely.

"Peacekeeper Ceres!" The mayor says through the microphone. The magnified sound crashes against my eardrums and it takes all my will to stop myself from clamping my hands against my ears.

"Yes," he says sharply, not looking up at the stage.

"I'm afraid that you are doing my job," he says.

"Just warming them up for you," he says briskly.

"I'm sure they are warm enough," The mayor replies.

"Right," Ceres replies unabashed as he continues his pacing.

"Do you think you could get back to your designated position?" The mayor asks after a brief pause.

"I need to keep these ruffians in check sir," Ceres says. The mayor drops the conversation.

"Ok, now this year is a Quarter Quell the Quell being volunteers only," he rushes through this. "Now the Treaty of Treason," he unrolls a long scroll and begins to read. I'm pretty sure that our district must be one of the most old fashioned since we still read the Treaty from a scroll. He finishes quickly and names the past victors and then introduces Demeter to us.

"Many greetings District Nine," she says into the mic with a bow. "Now as your most brilliant Head Peacekeeper was telling you, this year is volunteers only," she waits, maybe for clapping or something but she receives nothing. She seems perfectly OK with that. "Great lets begin with the boys first shall we," I'm listening for this part, my eyes are still closed. I'm trying to block out the resounding thunder of the microphone.

"I volunteer," I say briskly, making sure that I get in instead of anybody else. Gasps all around me along with astounded looks.

"I volunteer," another voice shouts, "in his place,". I'm surprised, District Nine never has volunteers, ever now here's someone trying of steal my potential glory.

"Please come up to the stage," Demeter says into the mic. I move out to the center aisle and start walking up before I realize that I'm supposed to be blind. I stagger my steps a bit more and a pair of peacekeepers grab my arms and nearly drag me to the stage.

Since I'm only thirteen I have to travel quite a distance to reach the stage and I pass L'eau on the way. I avert my eyes and listen to her brisk breathing. Of course I can hear everyone else's too but hers is the one I'm looking for. I strain my ears and listen to her receding heartbeat as well, its thumping fast. I listen to the heartbeat of the two peacekeepers leading me, they are smooth and uncaring.

I'm onstage before I finish processing my thoughts. I look out at everyone and freeze up, I hate being in front of a crowd.

"Name please," Demeter says happily.

"Emmer Amar," the other boy says. His breathing is fast and his heart is beating quick. He's afraid.

"How about you?" Demeter says, leaning the mic over to my mouth.

"Farrow Tare," I say, trying to enunciate clearly.

"Now, Farrow, Emmer has volunteered for you, are you willing to accept this very generous offer,"

"Yes he is," Maize says from behind me. I turn around and see that Maize is scowling at me. His overcoat is gone and his clouded glasses are covering his eyes.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Demeter asks.

"Maize," he says, "victor of the Hunger Games, and friend of Farrow," he says.

"I see, but I was asking Farrow for his opinion on the subject not yours," Demeter says icily. She looks at me questioningly.

"He's blind," Maize says.

"Is that so?" Demeter asks.

"Yes,"

"Unfortunate, but this is straying off topic, Farrow do you or do you not want Emmer to replace you in the Games,"

"No," I say. This earns many gasps from the crowd, but a small sigh of relief from Emmer.

"That ends it, we will now move on to the ladies," Demeter says.

Miri Ismail-Pignati's POV

* * *

I let out a gasp as the scene unfolds before me. "What is it," Monique asks from my side. I'm speechless. "What is it," she says more urgently.

"The boy that just volunteered,"

"Yes, yes," she says impatiently.

"He's blind," Monique is silent. Someone from he crowd volunteers and I recognize Emmer walking to the stage behind the blind boy. "Emmer just volunteered," I whisper to Monique.

"Why?"

"I don't know why, probably to save the boy," I reply sharply, even though Monique can hear exceptionally well I still have to tell her everything that's happening.

Onstage one of the mentors gets up and starts talking to Demeter. She's talking without the mic now so strangely I feel left out of a conversation. "Unfortunate," Demeter says, talking into the mic now, "but this is straying off topic, Farrow do you or do you not want Emmer to replace you in the Games,"

"No," Farrow says. I gasp, I wasn't expecting him to say that.

"That ends it, we will now move on to the ladies," Demeter says briskly, obviously wanting to move on with the reaping. "Ladies, you may volunteer now,"

"What's your plan," Monique asks me. I grit my teeth.

"You know I have too,"

"Maybe if you wait long enough you'll get lucky," she says, trying to be upbeat.

"That won't happen," I say.

"It won't if you think like that," she says teasingly.

"Or it won't anyway," I say. She stays silent and it gives me some time to think about what I am about to do.

"Five minutes down, five more before you get your own personal Hunger Games," Demeter says torturously. I'm gonna die if I go, but if I don't Spelt promised that Monique would die.

I try to switch my mindset to Monique's, always upbeat. If I go to the games I have a chance of winning, very slight chance but its there nonetheless.

"I volunteer," I say. My words spark a burst of comments. I have never been very popular with the district since I dye the tips of my sandy blond hair green.

"It's the Capitol girl," I hear this murmured throughout the crowd. "Good riddance," is another, "no she might come back since she's the disgraceful career," someone replies.

It's true I do train, but that only because Aunt Sandra is worried that I might get called into the arena. I walk to the stage assaulted by insults that I do my best to ignore.

"Come tell us your name," Demeter tells me. I pass the blindfolded boy and am even more shocked because he can't be older than thirteen and he doesn't look all that healthy. He won't last more than a few days.

I'm moved in front of the microphone and tell my name, " Miri Ismail-Pignati," I say clearly.

"Now we have our pair of tributes from District Nine," she says, "now shake hands," the mentors come first most are old and ragged, the mentor that spoke to Demeter reaches me last.

"My name is Maize," he tells me in a low whisper.

"Good to meet you," I say equally soft.

"Let me tell you right now, Farrow isn't all that he seems, and he might surprise you a bit, but I don't want to see him die. Please protect him," this isn't what I was expecting, but what can I say. "Please," he says with more force behind the words. He's looking into my eyes past the foggy glasses on his nose.

"I'll try," I say.

"I was hoping for an 'I will'," he says, "but 'I'll try' will work. Good luck," he says and pats my shoulder. Finally I'm shaking hands with Farrow. I look at his blindfold where his eyes should be and we shake hands.

"I heard every word you said," he tells me softly, "so will you try, or will you do?" he asks me.

After years of spending time with Monique I'm unsurprised that he hear our conversation and I feel sorry for this blind boy who is going into the games unable to see, but I do want to protect him while I can. "I will," I say.

"That's what Maize wanted to hear," he tells me, "but I'm fine without your help, I'll manage," I'm shocked that he so blatantly rejected help.

"Your ears aren't that good," I tell him, since there's no way he could possibly win the games without being able to hear someone coming from a mile away.

"You'd be surprised," he says, "I can hear your heart racing, you didn't want to come to Games, your scared. I can feel the sweat on your hand, you didn't want to come," his analysis of my condition creeps me out. "Furthermore I wanted to be here, I wanted to have this chance so already I have an advantage,"

"I could kill you without a problem in the arena," I say fiercely, how can a blind boy be so cocky about his chances in a death match? Does he think that the other competitors will let him win since he can't see? Or maybe he's hoping that the Capitol will be able to fix his vision.

"The careers won't let you live," I tell him.

"Oh I'm planning on killing them," he says immediately.

"How?" I ask.

"I have my ways," he replies with a cunning smile.

"Ok, are you two done yet?" Demeter asks us. I suddenly realize that we've been shaking hands for over a minute.

"Yeah," I say.

"Good," Demeter says as the national anthem begins to play. Once its finishes we are escorted form the stage and into the justice building.

* * *

**So... Another chapter. Thanks for your support and for the tributes. Please review and tell me what you think. **

**don't worry I am planning to get the games rolling fast, so I will finish with the Reapings and then I will make the Capitol fairly quick since hardly anybody likes reading about the same stuff over and over again.**

**anyway review and don't be afraid to PM me and tell me to hurry up.**

**-Ares**


	13. District Ten

**This probably won't be the best chapter you've ever read but I'm out of ideas so... Yeah. Most of you don't read the entire chapter anyway so I guess it doesn't really matter if its bad.**

**Thanks hoprocker for Lance Wolfe and cakepopramen-chan for Aya Tasmos.**

* * *

_"What can I do That will turn you from this? Monsieur, you cannot leave."_

_Marius, Valjeans Confession _

Lance Wolfe's POV

* * *

I eat my meager meal of tesserae bread and some goat cheese. The bread is old and stale but the cheese is delicious. Nice and creamy. I lick my fingers to get the rest and then wipe them on my pants.

I open the door to my little shack and walk down the road towards Mr. Skape's ranch. I need to check on the sheep and the goats before I head to town. I let my mind wander as I walk down the dusty trail. My thoughts visit the horse that I've been looking at. A nice fiery mare with a stupendous white mane. Imagine the looks on the kids when they saw me flying by on that magnificent creature.

After the hour of walking his house comes into view. It's a small house but at least its better than my shack. I wander through his dry lawn and his dead looking trees around to his corral and see the house for his flock of sheep and goats. He has the sleeping houses behind his house and about a square mile of land beyond that for the animals to graze on.

I enter the building and the comforting smell of animals fills my nostrils. The sheep are still asleep but when the door opens they start to move. I grab a long rope attached to some pulleys and lift a large metal gate into the ceiling allowing the sheep to enter and exit as they wish.

I move around the stalls counting the number of sheep. I let out a sigh of relief when the number from yesterday matches. Mr. Skape hates loosing sheep and normally takes it out on me. I erase yesterday's number from a chalkboard and rewrite it.

I move onto the goats now and do the same thing, pulling up the metal gate and counting the number that are still here. I wright the number on a chalkboard similar to the one for the sheep.

I then prod the sheep and goats out the gates and make sure that they start grazing. I watch for an hour before leaving, then make the trip back to my shack. I'm musty and dirty but that's pretty much how everyone is. I decide to get some rest while I can and drift off to sleep.

Aya Tasmos's POV

* * *

I'm alone, that's all that matters for now. I keep my mind away from Tobi and the guilt I already feel chewing at me. I feel the desire to follow in my brothers footsteps consuming me as I sit in a clump of sparse trees.

I look around at the open area for grazing animals but none are in sight. I close my eyes and steady my breathing. I ran from the house when dad started yelling at mom. And once again the thought to do what my brother did jumps through my mind. A few years back he volunteered for the games because he was sure he would go mad, and he had the faint hope that maybe it would make my mom and dad stop the fighting. It only made things worse. Now Tobi is in with the mess and I'm just as powerless to stop the arguments as ever.

Stormie's face is suddenly in mine. "Why'd you run away!" She demands angrily.

"How d'you know about that?" I say back.

"I caught Tobi running from your house and he told me everything," she says fiercely. I growl, tears on the verge of leaking down my cheeks.

"I don't know, I just... Hate it," I say.

"Well you had better figure out, your scaring Tobi," she says. I can't handle all of this by myself, so there's no way I'll be able to keep Tobi out of it.

"How'd you figure out where I was?" I ask.

"Where else would you go?" She says. Stormie has a point, I always come to this tree whenever stuff like this happens. "Look, you can't keep breaking down otherwise Tobi won't know what to do," she says, her voice loosing the edge.

"You remember Melic," I say quietly, its not a question.

"Oh no, you are not doing what he did," Stormie replies quickly catching on immediately.

I ignore her and keep following my train of thought, "I was thinking that I would save the district for another year, and just escape everything,"

"Your death won't do anything," she tells me sharply.

"Your the only one that hold us up," I say in the same monotone voice, "I have nothing to loose,"

"What about Tobi?" She asks.

"I haven't been doing anything for him, that's all you," I continue.

"And what's he gonna think when he's left alone and watches you in the games?"

"I don't know, I just can't handle it,"

"So your giving up?"

"Yeah," I reply, defeated.

"Fine, go throw your life away, the only good is saving the district for another year," Stormie says and then she's gone. I try to keep the tears from falling but I can't. What Stormie told me stung and only magnified my misery.

"What am I going to do," I ask the tree. I don't get an answer.

Lance Wolfe's POV

* * *

I wake up and thin slants of light shine through the holes in my shack. I don't have an alarm clock, those are too expensive. I'm not overly worried about missing the reaping since it starts at two.

I don't have anything special for the reaping other than what I'm wearing now. I prop myself up on one elbow and squint as my eyes adjust. There's a bit of leftover tesserae bread and a bit of the goat cheese. I spread some of the cheese on the bread with my finger and exit my shack.

I'm not too surprised by the progression of kids and adults towards the district square. A few of the younger kids are crying and adults try to keep control of those that aren't yet part of the reaping.

I join the crowd and think about what I'm going to have later today after the reaping. I walk with the group for a bit, chewing on my bread, and then we have to stop for a cow crossing. The ground is riddled with cow pies and even though my boots are already covered in the undesirable substance I don't want to cover them with this fresher stuff.

The rest of the walk to district square is uneventful. I reach out my finger to get pricked by the sterile needle and the peacekeeper scans my blood.

"Next!"

I move forward and get a decent spot in the seventeens section. Mayor Angus is siting stiffly in his chair not looking at anyone in particular. The escort Lupa is talking to one of the past victors.

We wait for a few minutes before the Justice Building's clock rings. Lupa jumps out of her seat and begins talking into the microphone. "Welcome District Ten to the third Quarter Quell reaping!" She claps alone and continues, "the reaping this year is different due to the quell so, instead of pulling names from the glass balls we will be calling for volunteers. Now before I continue I will give your mayor the privilege of speaking to you,"

She sits down and Mayor Angus walks to the microphone clutching his cane in his right hand. Being around sixty years old and struggling with arthritis he goes through the treaty quickly. I can hardly understand him when he reads off the names of the past victors since his voice is so dry and hoarse.

"Back to you, Lupa," he says before hobbling back to his chair.

"Thanks for that lovely introduction," she says dynamically, "now like I was saying before, this year is no ordinary year, this year you will have to volunteer for your district. But remember," she says her voice growing more serious [think albums Dumbledore] "should your district fail to volunteer, not only will you not be represented in the games but you will also be get your own personal Hunger Games," her voice is quiet and low as she finishes this, she has our full attention. "But I'm sure that wont happen," she says happily, her voice upbeat again. "Lets begin with the men shall we," silence answers.

I let my mind drift off since there is no way I'll be volunteering, I don't want to die. I think about the horse I've been looking at. I think about the younger kids that hang out around my shed.

"Maybe you don't understand," Lupa says after what must be five minutes, "you get five more minutes before your own personal games where twenty-four of you men will be thrown into the arena together,"

I start to think about me in the games, an absurd thought. If I go I'm not half bad with weapons, but the careers have all the training in the world. I could make it far but I'd probably loose. The thought starts to consume me. I've always liked the younger kids, if I volunteer for the games I could spare the district for another year.

"Last chance District Ten, your out of time if nobody comes forward than you get your own games. I've heard that District Six's escort wasn't this nice, so who will be the volunteer from among you," my choice is made at Lupa's words and I move out through the crowd and up to the stage. "Thank you," Lupa says, "the rest of you should be ashamed, here is a perfectly amazing young man sacrificing himself for your benefit," she scolds the rest of the district. I look down awkwardly thinking about how this wouldn't need to happen if it weren't for the Capitol and its demented taste of entertainment. "Tell us your name,"

"Lance Wolfe," I say immediately.

"Great, I won't ask you any more questions since we aren't that far in the games yet. Girls your up, its time to volunteer,"

Aya Tasmos's POV

* * *

"Girls your up, its time to volunteer," I look at Stormie standing next to me and she grip my hand tightly. She mouths the word _don't_ and I shake my head, tears threatening to leak again. _I'll wait_ I mouth back.

Time seems to stop as I wait for the moment where I will volunteer. I focus on the faces of my loved ones. Tobi, his small, young and innocent face appears in my minds eye. I shift to Melic, his hard eyes are how I last remember him, except the last time I saw him he was in a wooden casket. Stormie comes next, she's pretty much family. I try to solidify the features since aside from goodbyes this will be the last time I ever see the again.

"Ladies," Lupa says with a theatrical sigh, "I was expecting more from you. You have five minutes left," suddenly five minutes doesn't seem enough time and I'm starting to back down. I don't have to do this, it will be a form of escape but I don't have to do this. The district will see it as noble but my family will be destroyed. Family, I don't have much family, I have Tobi and that's it. He's all I really have, but I'm not all he has. Stormie is the one keeping both of us up, she will take good care of Tobi if I... If I...

"If I volunteer," I say, not realizing that I spoke aloud. "I volunteer," I say louder.

"Lovely," Lupa says clasping her hands together. "Come to the stage please,"

I walk stiffly avoiding Stormie's accusing expression. I walk with my head down. "Now tell us your name,"

"Aya Tasmos," I say.

"And thank you for volunteering," she says. The Panem Anthem begins and I shake hands with Bos. I shake hands with a longish line of victors and end with Lance.

"You ready?" He asks me.

"No," I reply.

"Me neither," he says with a smile.

"I guess that's reassuring," I say back.

"Thanks for being such a great audience, I'll see you next year," Lupa says with a wave as she pulls us to the justice building.

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**Oh I hate this chapter. The tributes were good but I have no experience with anything related to District Ten. Sorry for such a crappy chapter.**

**I probably could have done better if I spent a bit more time on it but I wanted to get through this district Quickly.**

**Review please and I'll try to get the next chapter up fast. :-)**


	14. District Eleven

**Another update, hopefully it is better than the last. We are nearing the Capitol, I plan to make it go by fast and still have a few tribute POV's. I'll set up a poll or something for opinions on how you want me to write for the Capitol.**

**thanks peenisandclato for the tributes.**

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_"The time is near, So near it's stirring the blood in their veins! And yet beware... Don't let the wine go to your brains!"_

_Enjloras, Red and Black_

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**Killian Jones's POV**

"Aim a little higher next time!" I instruct Bianica as she throws the spear into the target. I cross my arms across my chest watch with a bit of pleasure as she sends the spear into the target again. "That's better," I say. She smiles and retrieves the three spears sticking out of the hay dummy. "My turn,"

I walk about ten yards away and find the balancing point of the spear. I hold the spear lightly and then throw it. I was aiming for the head but I get stomach instead.

"Aim a little higher next time," Bianica snickers. I snatch the next spear and send it into the dummy's heart. "That's better," Bianica mimics. My next spear hits the knee.

"There's something wrong with these spears," I complain.

"Of course there is," Bianica says sarcastically. I give it up, there's no chance of winning an argument with her. She smiles when I don't say anything back. "What do you want to do now? swords, bows..."

"Either," I reply indifferently.

"Toss me the sword than," she tells me. I grab the long blade by the hilt and toss it to her, she catches it and turns on the second dummy. We're behind my fathers house and he has an assortment of weapons and dummies matched to each weapon to give us the best possible training.

Bianica strikes multiple times spinning and twirling leaving shallow trenches across the figures arms, legs and torso. She stops after striking the neck once and the sword embeds itself about a quarter of an inch into the hard substance.

She hands the sword to me and I take it and begin to assault the dummy. It's made out of some kind of enhanced Capitol stuff that absorbs my blows. I stab at its stomach and try to ignore the jolt that my arm gets after every strike. The hilt becomes slick with sweat after a few minutes of the intense process. I end with jab to the heart and a slash at the face.

Bianica claps slowly, "well done, now all we have to do is get the competitors to stop moving and you'll chop them to bits,"

I replace the sword in its scabbard and sit in a wooden chair. "You ready for today?" I ask.

"I'm ready for today. Not sure about the rest of it,"

"You don't have to volunteer if you don't want," I tell her.

"Who's gonna protect you in the arena?" She says jokingly.

"I can handle myself,"

"You sure,"

"Positive,"

"Re-eally," she drags out the word and fingers a wooden practice sword. "Prove it," I'm caught off guard as she throws a wooden sword at me and it bounces off my forearms. She slides one out of the barrel and comes at me. I lift the practice sword off the ground and parry one of her blows, then another.

"Your not gonna win that way!" She yells at me. I block another blow and lash out at her side. She dodges and playfully taps my sword away. I slash again and again trying to get her to mess up. Her defense is flawless, which is her strength. I feint at her stomach and she moves to block the fake stroke. I tap her shoulder and then the other in quick succession.

"Oh, you got me," she says dramatically. I pull my sword back and she quickly drags her sword across my stomach. "Never let your guard down,"

"I chopped your arms off," I say incredulously.

"What I I had Cato armor," she retorts.

"Than I guess I would be dead,"

"Yeah, you would be dead," she says matter-of-factly.

"Bianica, your mother is here, she would like to speak with you," my father yells from the front of the house. She jumps up and walks into the house through the back door.

I follow her through my house and to the front door where her mom waits. "Bianica I told you to be home before twelve and its nearly twelve-thirty,"

"Sorry," Bianica says.

"Sorry nothing, your coming home this instant," she grabs Bianica by the wrist and pulls her out the door. Bianica glances back at me and mouths _sorry_.

"She could cool down a bit," my dad says after he closes the door.

"No kidding,"

"So today's the big day, the reaping,"

"Yeah,"

"Nervous?"

"No," I lie.

"When I got reaped I thought it was the end of the world, I never thought I'd be urging my own kid to volunteer," he gazes out a window thoughtfully.

"Um, dad," I say after a minute or two.

"Just thinking about... You know." Yes I do know, he was thinking about his games. The games that changed his life. "I shouldn't dwell on past unpleasantries, why don't you run into the kitchen and grab yourself a bit of food and we'll run down to the district square," he pushes me away and I make my way to the kitchen.

Many of the surfaces are covered with various Capitol delicacies. Out a window I can get a good view at the pistachio and pecan orchards, this is considered one of the most beautiful parts of the district. I don't understand why since its just a bunch of trees with husks hanging from the branches.

The food I eat is delicious, but I don't dwell on its flavor as much as its nutritional value since I'll need my strength for the upcoming weeks.

The Hunger Games, fight to the death in an arena designed to kill you. My dad always says that you never feel more alive than when your almost dead. I haven't been doing much, its about time I started living a bit more.

**Bianica Calder's POV**

When mom drags me from the porch I glance back at Killian and mouth _sorry_. Mom is seething. "The last time I ever let you go to his house," she mutters, more to herself than to me.

She doesn't know that I'm planning on volunteering for the games today. Only my sister Alexie and Killian know that. "Mom, I can walk myself," she keeps on clenching my hand roughly and pulls me towards the house.

My mom isn't normally angry like this, but she keeps a strict schedule and expect us to do what she asks. The house comes into view and she throws open the door. "Ooh someone's in trouble," a teasing voice comes from the doorway.

"Shut up," I say. Alexandra comes out of the door in her blue reaping outfit. Technically its not even hers since Killian's father is the one that bought it for her.

"Your gonna be late for the reaping if you don't hurry up," she continues in the same teasing voice.

"Hurry, get your dress on and get back down here. Alexandra you can get on down to the square, I'll wait,"

I find my room, but I don't change into my designated reaping outfit. Killian decided that we should look ready when we volunteer, we shouldn't be in our special clothing. So instead I slide my leather boots on and change into a blue shirt.

I walk out of my room to my mother, "what are you doing!" I don't answer. "Change into your reaping outfit otherwise were going to be late,"

"I'm going in this," I say simply.

"Our district–" She doesn't get the rest out because I push past her and into the street. She lets me go and I don't look back. Killian quickly joins me, wearing a black shirt and jeans and his leather boots.

"She didn't like it?" he asks after reading my expression.

"Nope,"

"Then it's a good thing you won't see her until you come back," he says this jokingly but it strikes deeper. The realization that I might not see my mother after the reaping is startling, but even more so is that I don't feel bad about it. I really owe her more than this, she has raised me with all the love in the world and now I'm running off with my boyfriend yet again.

"Yeah," is all I can say in response. We approach the district square with some odd glances from the other District citizens, probably because of our attire. All the others are in formal clothes.

"What are you two doing?" Asks the peacekeeper at the table set out for signing in.

"Signing in," Killian says. She stabs him with her needle with more force than necessary and he instinctively jerks back as the needle grazes a nerve.

"Do you want to give me a sarcastic comment miss?" the peacekeeper asks me.

"No," I reply and hold out my finger. The jab has less force than the me she gave Killian but it still hurts more than normal.

"Have a great day," she says snidely.

"Can't wait to be rid of them," Killian mutters under his breath.

"Even if its just for a month?" I asks.

"It won't be a month, once I get back, I wont have anything to do with them," he says. Somehow we find a spot near the stage in the seventeens section. Since there's no way for the entire population to in the square at the same time I wonder how they will make sure that everybody has an fari chance of volunteering.

The square is to its max capacity but still more people come, they are directed by peacekeepers to adjoining streets, but the kids are still compressed into the square. I'm sure that this is the tightest I've ever been and I'm wondering if somehow they have managed to compress everyone into the square. But my question is soon answered by the mayor.

"You latecomers, please go to the adjoining street, your names will be added another five times to the reaping bowl," he sighs and begins with the dull treaty. "Long ago there was a people that lived in a place called North America, this people fell into war..." I zone him out, but still try to look like I'm listening. He finishes with "Lily Haerty, the stage is yours,"

Our escort bubbly and happy struts up to the microphone, "Welcome, welcome District Eleven," she doesn't wait for us to applaud, "this year is a very special year, this year is a Quarter Quell," she claps and some join in halfheartedly. "Now as the quell states this year is only volunteers. You will be given ten minutes to volunteer, but if that time expires you will get a games to yourselves," almost as an afterthought she adds, "I actually hope that happens, since this is a quell it should be extra exciting," she beams at us happily and jumps right into the next part. "Lets begin with the ladies as usual, if any of you would like please come and volunteer," she looks like she doesn't expect anyone to volunteer.

Killian looks at me and mouths, _go_ I shoot my hand into the air with a shout of "I volunteer," this seems to surprise Lily.

"Well then, come to the front young lady," I push my way through the crowd with much difficulty and make my way to the stage. Halfway to the stage someone yells out my name.

"Bianica. No!" It's Wanda, she's behind me. _Don't do something stupid_, I think to myself. She doesn't shout out anymore and I walk calmly to the front.

"What's your name?" Lily asks me as if Wanda didn't just yell for me.

"Bianica Calder,"

"I must be honest I didn't think anybody had the guts to do what you just did," she tells me. _Somebody else does._ I want to tell her to keep going with the reaping so I don't have to stand here alone.

**Killian Jones's POV**

Bianca volunteers, good. I'm not sure if I would be able to go into the games without her. "Now for the boys," I shoot my hand up quickly and once again see Lily's stunned face. "What a," she searches for the word, "Unexpected... Turn of events," come to the front and tell us your name please,"

I'm up to the front Ina flash, using the same path that Bianica used. "Killian Jones," I say when I reach the microphone.

"Now, I won't ask you why you volunteered so eagerly, but I do have to say your apparel is mightily strange," this comment seems directed to both of us.

My apparel is strange? I'm not the one that walks around with a yellow wig and a frilly purple dress with my body covered in tattoos.

"Sadly this is the end of our reaping ceremony for this year," most of the district seems to be in shock that they only had to wait a minute at most. The anthem begins to play and the past victors come through and shake our hands.

My dad pats my shoulder and says, "Well done," Seeder and Chaff come next and finally I shake Bianica's hand. I give a reassuring squeeze that she returns.

"Tributes of District Eleven!" Lily announces and holds our hands in the air like champions. I already feel like a winner.

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**Again thanks for reading, also I will be putting up a poll for how you guys want me to do the Capitol. I can't think of anything else so... see you soon.**


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